


Love in the Shadow of Death

by AdultOrphan



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Game of Thrones RPF, SanSan - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, F/M, greyscale, sansan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-05-01 02:43:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 44,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5189129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdultOrphan/pseuds/AdultOrphan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fest 2015</p>
<p>Prompt #13. Arranged Marriage AU from Maracuya<br/>Westeros has suffered greatly from an outbreak of Greyscales: whole villages have been wiped out, and some noble families, too. Robb has become the new Lord of Winterfell. Now, that Edmure Tully - as the last direct heir - has passed away, too, King Robert orders Sansa to take over Riverrun - and to marry Sandor Clegane. It's part of a new royal wedding strategy so as to help the regions recover as quickly as possible. (Who are the other siblings destined to marry?)</p>
<p>Bonus: The direwolves are alive.</p>
<p>+++ Bonus: Some of the greatest baddies have been wiped out by the plague, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Lie is Revealed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maracuya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maracuya/gifts).



> All characters and settings belong to the wonderful GRRM. I am only borrowing his toys, and playing with them, since The Mountain is not around to punish me. I gain nothing from this work, except writing experience with superior characters.
> 
> Cannon divergent.
> 
> All constructive criticism is welcome, I have a thick skin and a desire to improve. Just a warning, I know the difference between to, too and two; and their, there and they're, but I will still use the wrong ones, just because. If you catch me writing in past tense, gently smack me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old lie comes to light, throwing the realm into chaos and changing the fate of the kingdom.

Lord Stark and his family arrived in the capital with King Robert's entourage just a nigh on a sennight earlier. He is settling into his job as the new Hand of the King. It is a daunting job and he still is not convinced he is the right man for this job. He feels he owes it to his late friend, Jon Arryn, to take up this burden. He also owes his old friend, King Robert, his best effort as a loyal subject and lord of his largest province of the Seven Kingdoms. As the father of the crown prince's betrothed, he owes his daughter his supervision and guidance in her preparation for her future role as queen.

As he goes about his new, job he digs into the various tomes on Jon Arryn's former desk, his desk, everything ostensibly was left just as he left it the day he died. Except, their was a big open spot in the center of the desk where the dust is nonexistent, unlike the other areas on the desk. What is missing and is it important for doing his job? He needs to speak to the people Jon worked with most closely.

\-------------

After meeting with the staff he inherited from Lord Hand Arryn, he finds out Lord Arryn's last words were "The seed is strong," and the name of the book that is missing. From talking with members of the small counsel, he finds out that the missing volume from his desk, "Lineages and Histories", records the births of the royal family dating back to Aegon's Landing. No one admits to knowing who moved it or why, and no one knows why Robert's late hand was in possession of this ancient, living and growing book. It dawns on Lord Stark that his grandchildren will be listed in this book after Sansa marries the Prince.

He thumbs through it as if this simple act could tease the secrets from it. Then he sets it aside to do what he considers real work. At the end of his fourteen hour day, he puts his work aside and heads out to have dinner in his private solar with his two daughters. As he leaves he stops at the door to make sure he is not forgetting anything. The book catches his eye and he retrieves it to study before he goes to bed.

As he arrives his daughters hug him like they have not seen him in weeks, not long hours. "Father, Sansa and I got to watch the kingsguards train. Can I train with them?"

"No! Absolutely not."

"But father, I want to learn to weld a sword. Sansa will be queen and I can protect her. I can be her sworn shield, like The Hound is Joffrey's."

"Aspiring to be like The Lannister Hound is not a fit pursuit for a lady, Arya. Your mother would skin me alive like she was a flayed man."

"We don't have to tell her."

"Training with men built to kill will no happen. You will have to find another activity."

"Father, I can understand Arya's fascination with sword play. It looked like some form of dance. I have never seen its like. Sandor Clegane took on Ser Meryn Trant and Ser Boros Blout at the same time and disarmed them both in a few parries."

"Did he now?"

"Yes father. It was rather like a story Old Nan would tell us of knights with magical powers."

"Well, lemon cake, The Hound is not a knight, and I doubt he has any magical powers. His size and experience are an advantages that few have."

"I got to talk to the knights, and The Hound sort of talked to me."

"What did he say?"

"He said I reminded him of those chirping little birds from the summer islands; always repeating back the courtesies I learned from others."

"Well, that was not a compliment Sansa. Steer clear of him and the other men-of-arms."

"Well, I cannot steer clear of him. He is oft with Prince Joffrey. Ser Loras said that it was the most he has ever said to anyone in the viewing stands."

"What did you say to him to get him talking?"

"I told him that no man could withstand him, and I would never have expected a man so large to move so gracefully and quickly."

"Where was Septa Mordane? I'll have to have a talk with her and The Hound.

"Father please do not talk with The Hound. He was not mean to me, and it was my fault the exchange started, not his. Is that not correct Arya?"

"Father with is that book?"

"Well, Arya, it is the book or royal births since Aegon's Landings. Your sister's children with the Prince will be added here one day."

"That's disgusting father! I just lost my appetite for dinner. Can I see it?"

"You 'MAY' see it Arya. Are your hands clean?"

"Father, Arya's hands are never clean." With that truth-based insult, the small she-wolf grabs two handfuls of shinny red hair. Their father drops the book on the nearby table and picks Arya up by the waist and wrenches her little fists out of her sister's hair. "Stop it you beast!"

"Arya, you are never allowed to abuse your sister." He sits her down at their dinning table. "It's a good thing you are not hungry. You will sit there and read this book to us, while your sister and I eat. Go wash your hands and face. Then apologize to your sister, and mean it."

"Sorry I pulled your hair. Father can I still eat, please."

"Sansa, do you accept your sister's apology."

"Yes, father."

"Then after you read the last three kings in the book to us, you may join us eating."

"Fine." 

"Fine, now wash." He opens the door to the guard and tells him to have the meals brought in. He and Sansa sit while the meal is served. He pulls Ayra's plate to his side of the table for her to retrieve after her punishment is finished. Arya returns to her seat with clean hands and face and Lord Stark place the book in from of her. She starts with the page her father left open for her. "You may eat your dinner after you read the last three kings to us."

"King Jaehaerys II (silver of hair/purple of eye)- second son of King Aegon V and Queen Betha Blackwood (silver of hair/purple of eye and black of hair/brown of eye); husband of Shaera Targaryen (silver of hair/purple of eye); father of Aerys II Targaryen (silver of hair/purple of eye) and Rhaella Targaryen (silver of hair/purple of eye); Ruled 259AL-262AL

Aerys II (silver of hair/purple of eye)- first son of King Jaehaerys II and Queen Shaera Targaryen (both silver of hair/purple of eye); husband of Rhaella Targaryen (silver of hair/purple of eyes); father of Rhaegar Targaryen (silver of hair/purple of eye), Viserys Targaryen (silver of hair/purple of eye) and Daenerys Targaryen (reported to be silver of hair/purple of eye); Ruled 262AL-283AL

Robert I (black of hair/blue of eye)-first son of Steffon Baratheon (black of hair/blue of eye) and Cassana Baratheon, née Estermont (brown of hair/blue of eye); brother of Stannis Baratheon (black of hair/blue of eye) and Renly Baratheon (black of hair/blue of eye); husband of Cersei Baratheon, née Lannister (gold of hair/green of eye), father of Joffrey Baratheon (gold of hair/green of eye), Myrcella Baratheon (gold of hair/green of eye), Tommen Baratheon (gold of hair/green of eye); Ruled 283AL-

Father that is the end of the three kings. May I eat now?"

"Yes, pass me the book first." She does and he moves it to a sideboard to protect it from Arya's bad eating habits. "Here is your dinner, sweetling."

"Thank you, father." She shovels a mouthful of food in and starts talking around the food. "Father, do you not think it odd that King Robert and all his family has black hair and blue eyes and all Queen Cersei's family has blond hair and green eyes? It's like the King is not Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen's father."

"I have never considered that."

"It would be like all of us having hair and eyes like mother, instead of just Sansa. Robb's hair is darker than mother's and so are Rickon's and Bran's. And my hair and eyes are like yours father."

"That because you are my child."

"Every Baratheon looks like a Baratheon, except the King's own children."

With those innocent words from his youngest daughter, he thinks back on all the Baratheon children to which he has been introduced, and those of which he has heard rumors. They go by the last names of Stone and Storm and Waters, Rivers, and Hill. There may also be some Flowers, Sands, Pikes or even Snows. All the bastards he knew of were black of hair and blue of eye. He was afraid of what this little kernel of truth, innocently dropped in his lap, could mean to the King and the realm. At least he did not need to stay awake past the hour of the wolf to figure out why Lord Hand Arryn had this book when he died, and why someone removed it from his desk. During the coming week he will visit all of King Robert's bastards in the area to confirm what he now believes lead to Jon Arryn's death, and if he can prove it was murder.

The next morning starts out before dawn for the Lord Hand. He tries to get his expected work done before he delves into his side project. By noon he is foraging for food in the kitchens and runs into Lord Varys. He invites the man to have lunch with him at his solar in the Tower of the Hand.

"Lord Varys, thank you for coming up here for an unscheduled lunch meeting with me. I am trying to get my head around this job and your experience and knowledge will be an invaluable help."

"Lord Stark, it is my pleasure to serve the realm. How may I help you?"

"Well, it is a rather delicate matter and I hope I can trust your discretion."

"The only two things you can trust in King's Landing are my discretion and Sandor Clegane's word."

"What do you mean?"

"It is an inside saying we have, due to Clegane's reputation for brutal truths."

"I understand. The matter I bring to you is my need to locate all of King Robert's children."

"Well, that is easy enough. They are with the Queen in the Grand Hall for lunch."

"Not those children. The bastards."

"Oh those. Some we will never know exist, the flesh trading being what it is. We do know of a few that can be located. We take care of the known bastards."

"How so?"

"The ones in the capital, their mother's are supported financially, if the children are older, they are aided in a vocation. We try to prevent the reoccurrence of a Bella."

"How many are in the city, and what is a Bella?"

The King's bastard daughter who lived at the brothel called the Peach in Stoney Sept. It is alleged that she was conceived during the Battle of the Bells, when Robert hid there wounded. She now works in a whore house and we like to keep her trade and the King's appetites separated."

"Seven hells."

"My little spiders heard a tell while the queen was in a rage. A wood witch named Maggy the Frog prophesized that the queen would have three children. All three would die before her. Her husband would have a total of sixteen children. I am only aware of eight. There are six that I track in the capital and others that are well know to all, Mya Stone in the Vale, Edric Storm in Storm's End."

"Yes, I remember the girl, Mya, whilst we were wards of Lord Arryn's. Black of hair and blue of eye."

"She now serves as a guide to and from the Eyrie. Gendry Walters is an unacknowledged bastard who was born to a worker in an alehouse. Now that he is old enough, we pay his blacksmith's apprentice fees. Edric Storm is Robert's only acknowledged bastard son, born to Delena Florent. Lucky for him he did not get the Florent ears. He did get the King's black hair and blue eyes. He lives at Storm's End under the protection of the castellan. Robert used to visit Edric almost every year, taught him how to fight, and gave him a war hammer.

"Can you tell me what Gendry is like?"

"Black of hair and blue of eye, very muscular for his age. He is the image of Renly. Petyr Baelish hints that Robert also fathered twins of a serving woman at Casterly Rock. If Queen Cersei knew one of her servants betrayed her, she would kill her and the twins. Barra is the youngest of Robert's known bastards. Her mother lives on one of Baelish's flesh houses here in King's Landing. What little hair she has is coming in black, her eyes are blue. The mother is blond with green eyes. The seed is strong."

"Those were Jon's last words."

"I know."

"If the seed is so strong, how does our King end up with his only legitimate heirs being gold of hair and green of eye? Each as much a twin of their mother as is Ser Jaime."

"You speak a mouthful, Lord Hand. It is like her children are her own twins. Who has always been around the queen that could truthfully tell of what he has witness? With that thought I will take my leave. Did you know that Clegane was the shield for our Queen before she had her first son?"

"I may have heard that once, but I had forgotten. I need to get better acquainted with The Hound."

Later in the day long after dark, Lord Hand Stark's summon is answered by none other than The Hound; strolling in at his unhurried, deliberate rate.

"You summoned me Lord Stark?"

"Yes, hours ago."

"My shift guarding the Prince just ended. I cannot abandon my charge at every whim of every lord."

"I see, but I am not just a lord. My word and requests are only second to the King."

"My charge will one day be your king. It is my job to keep the little shite alive."

"You speak that way of your charge?"

"He was a sweet boy. Now he is a bully who uses my presence as his backbone. Not a good quality for our future king. No cat in the Keep will be safe, but I like dogs better."

"Your reputation for the truth precedes you."

"Well, that is better than my reputation for wine, women and violence."

"Yes, well, I have something to discuss with you involving one woman. I need you to tell me true, and to keep what we discuss between us."

"IF I answer, I will tell you true. It may go no further than these wall, but these walls have many ears."

"In that case let's sit out on the balcony. No walls hiding spiders there." He leads The Hound out to a stone bench. "I, and the previous lord hand had suspicions on the true parentage of Queen Cersei's children." The Hound's mask of indifference does not shift, but his eyes widen for a second before they narrow.

"I was there when they were born. They definitely came from their mother's cunt."

"You know what I mean."

"Yes I do, and I would like to keep my head."

"I will protect you."

A harsh laugh emanates from the Hound. "The fact that you think that YOU can protect ME shows me you cannot even protect you or yours. I will keep an eye out for your daughters. These questions will not end in a safe place for them to land."

"I see that you are not willing to make this go away by appeasing me with a lie. Confirm one thing for me and this goes away. I will drop this entire matter. Is King Robert Baratheon the true father of Queen Cersei's three children?"

"I will protect your daughters as best I can, but you need to send them back to Winterfell, if you intend to continue on with this inquiry, Lord Hand. I will not mention this conversation, but I will not lie for you. One thing that is guaranteed in this court is that the wrong person will find out about your efforts, and it will probably be Littlefucker. My advice to you is to drop it." With that The Hound stands without asking for leave and walks off the balcony and out of the door.

The Hound's non-confirmation all but confirms that King Robert has no true born heirs, but it did not provide the proof he could take before the King and the Small Counsel. Of the others who would know, he could not trust them. The warning of Littlefinger confirms his suspicions of the man. Since arriving in the capital, he has already heard ugly rumors about not only his good sister, but his wife. He can perhaps kill two mockingbirds with one stone by meeting with Lord Baelish.

He will need more thought on how to approach the flesh peddler. That is a meeting to put off for tomorrow, when he is fresher and sharper.


	2. A Fateful Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Stark meets with Lord Baelish

The first thing in the morning Lord Hand Stark concludes his small counsel meeting. He asks Lord Baelish to stay behind to ostensibly discuss his reservations about the mounting costs for the planned Tourney of the Hand. He will tackle that first and then move onto the more important topics.

"Lord Baelish, would you mind following me to my solar. I left my notes in there."

"Lead the way Lord Hand. What is the topic?"

"Cutting the costs for the upcoming tourney being held in my name."

"It is a big honor for you to have a tourney dedicated to you. It is a privilege usually reserved for kings."

As they arrive in his solar he tells Lord Baelish, "An honor, yes, but not a necessary cost. We cannot afford this."

"We can borrow more money."

"How are we going to pay it back. We own the Iron Bank and Lord Tywin Lannister millions of gold dragons. When are we going to get these debts paid down? The crown can not afford forty thousand gold dragons to the first place winner. It is more than a king's ransom."

"The raven notices are already in route to all the great houses with instructions for them to notify their minor lords. The prize is already published. Reneging on this commitment will harm the image of the King and make us look weak and inconsistent."

"How much will this event cost us?"

"Including the prizes, preparation, feasts and extra gold cloak shifts, two hundred thousand dragons give or take."

"I am authorizing ninety thousand. Make it smaller and only one feast. They can eat in the inns and support our local merchants."

"As you wish Lord Hand."

"Please, let's take a seat out on a the balcony." Littlefinger follows Ned to a stone bench and they both take a seat. "Some old rumors have come to my attention. I have shared them via raven with Lady Stark. She has asked me to put an end to them once and for all."

"I cannot image what they are?"

"I am sure you cannot. Sadly, you are also involved in the rumors. Whispers have come to me that you claimed you fucked my wife before I married her." There is an edge in his voice

"Of course not, Lord Stark."

"Well, I know it is not the truth, since I was there on my wedding night, but there could be only one source for this rumor and a similar rumor exists of you and my good sister."

"Well, on that one, it was not a false rumor. I had known Lady Lysa before she was married. The whispers of it were the reason Lord Hoster Tully sent me away."

"How did my lady wife's good name get mixed up in this?"

"My duel with your brother for Lady Catelyn's hand, mixed with the truth with Lady Lysa, merged into whispers that became folklore."

"If this proves to be all there is to it, I will let it die here. If I find out there is more to the spreading of this slander against my wife's good name, then we will have a day of reckoning."

"As you say Lord Stark. I will take my leave."

"One more thing Lord Baelish."

"Lord Stark?"

"I am following Lord Arryn's path; seeing to it that the King's baseborn children are properly situated. I hear there is a babe in one of your establishments that was sired by our King."

"Yes, Barra. She is almost at her first name day."

"How do we know she is the King's."

"The girl was set aside from the start for only the King's pleasure."

"There is no way to prove that."

"My word."

"Even if I believe every word, you are not at that one establishment every moment. Who knows what whores do on the side?"

"Her mother is blond with green eyes the babe has black hair just now growing in and blue eyes."

That is not definitive. The King's legitimate kids all have blond hair and green eyes like their mother. They look nothing like their father."

"I think they look the spitting image of both their parents."

"What are you saying?"

"What are you hearing?"

"If Joffrey, Mycella and Tommen look like their father, then who is their father?"

"The Queen is very limited in who has complete access to her under the King's nose. Her children are practically like her twins, give or take twenty name days."

Ned is knocked back on his heels by a second member of the small counsel implying the King's children were not true born, and it was also the second time someone has mentioned twin, with emphasis. They could not be implying what he fears they are. "Lord Baelish, I will not keep you any longer. If we can prove that Barra belongs to the King, the crown will see to her needs and help her find a position when she comes of age. Maybe arrange a betrothal." Lord Baelish takes his leave with Ned having snagged the fish, without even baiting his hook. Baelish was either distracted with fear of being run through for the rumor besmirching his wife's virtue, or he wants the Queen's secret's out.


	3. To Cage a Lioness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Hand Eddard Stark executes a plan to trap Queen Cersei into exposing the truth about the parentage of her three children.

Ned asked to meet with the queen in her private quarters several days later, and after more talks and efforts to gather research and resources. He even visited both Gendry and Barra himself to see how strong the seed is. He finds out about the secret passages that crisscross the private chambers from Varys and distracts the Queen's red cloaks and Jaime Lannister with an extra training session in the yard, in preparation for the upcoming tourney. He replaces them with his own household guards.

After he is admitted to the Queens rooms, he takes a seat at her invitation. "To what do I owe this privilege Lord Stark?"

"I have some distressing matters to discuss with you, my Queen. I am sure you are aware that your kingly husband has several baseborn children."

"Yes, if you can call six and ten several."

"True. I stand corrected. He has a number of baseborn children. Information has come to me from a number of sources that I must, regretfully, now bring to your attention."

"You sound so grave Lord Stark. You northmen are far too dire."

"The matter is quite grave. It involves your children and their futures."

"Their futures are set. They be kings and princes and princesses. Are you looking to talk betrothals."

"No, Your Grace. I am here to let you know that I know about their parentage. They are not King Robert's children."

"Who would have told you such lies? I will do you the favor of not telling my husband of your slander, for he would have their heads on a pike, next to yours for this treason."

"I am offering you the chance to save your children and yourself. Identify their father and sign away the Baratheon name. We will even allow you to name them Lannister, instead of Hill or Waters. I will see to it that you and your children are safely allowed back to Casterly Rock to live in exile."

"You think you can banish me and my children on a lie."

"Yes, as the lie is yours and your paramour's. This is treason to the crown and the King."

"Did your King ever tell you what he called me on our wedding night?"

"No."

"Lyanna. After that I could not love him, and I would not willingly give him heirs."

"It was just a name, a ghost from the grave. You betray your marriage vows and committed treason for a whispered name."

"It was more of a moan, but I admit to nothing; betrayed nothing."

"At some point soon someone will talk and you paramour will be a head shorter Your Grace. If he is someone you care about, tell me now and I will send him away."

"No one would dare touch him."

"At least you admit there is a him."

"I will only tell you who he is, if you promise to keep him safe, and do not tell the King. I will deny it outside of this room."

"If that is the case, then you have my word. I will not tell the King and I will get the true father out of the capital alive."

"You will drop the matter?"

"I will not carry it outside this room."

"I will hold you to your word or I will see you and your family cursed. Jaime is their father."

"Your brother? Your twin brother is the father of all three of your children?"

"He is my other half. He is part of me. My children are golden and beautiful and perfect. They are his and he is mine"

"You have left the King without an heir.

"My Joffrey is his heir."

"You intend to perpetuate this lie."

"What lie. I have no idea what you are talking about. I think this meeting is over Lord Stark."

"As you say Your Grace." Lord Stark opens the door. Standing in the doorway and hall are all the kingsguards, except Ser Jaime and Stark guards, instead of Lannister red cloaks.

"What is this, what have you done?"

"I, nothing. You high treason."

King Robert steps into the room after having emerged from a secret tunnel under their room. He just heard enough to turn his world upside down and sideways. He steps in front of his queen and towers over his loving, lovely, loyal wife. She stares into his face defiantly, emerald green versus royal blue. King Robert back hands his wife across her face and Ned steps forward to restrain him, but Ser Barristan the Bold steps in to stop Ned.

Ned interjects, "King Robert, she is still your wife. Allow me to move her and her children to Maegor's Holdfast until the matter is decided."

"The children Ned. They are not my children. Put Jaime Lannister in the black cells and expel the Lannister red cloaks and their retainers back to Casterly Rock. Then lockdown the city. I don't want them coming back."

"No my love. Forgive me. I lied to Ned. They are your children. They all just favor their mother."

"And their father", the King bites back.

"NO! Lord Stark you promised me."

"I am keeping my promises. You children will not be harmed. Your Grace, I do propose Ser Jaime can be sent to the Wall."

Queen Cersei melts down into her skirts and Ser Barristan holds her up and gives her support. Ned commands, "First escort the Queen to guest rooms in the tower, then summon Ser Jaime to the Tower of the Hand." Ser Barristan rushes her out of the King's presences before the King decides to extract justice immediately. "Does anyone know where Lord Tywin is, or Ser Gregor Clegane for that matter?" The kingsguard weigh the gravity of the Hand's question and mumble amongst themselves. Ser Boros speaks up, "As soon as Lord Tywin hears of this, he and the Mountain that Rides will be at our gates."

Ned moves on, "I'll find out from Lord Varys. Your Grace, should we leave the children in their current rooms or move them closer to their mother?"

"Leave them. Reassign The Hound to your children Ned."

"Don't you think that is an overkill and is he not a Lannister retainer."

"They have the Mountain. I am keeping their Hound. The man knows how to follow orders and Cersei has a lot of spies and a streak for vengeance."

"As you say Your Grace."

"I will go tell my-Cersei's children that they are headed to Casterly Rock to visit they grandfather tomorrow. Send their maids to help them pack their things for travel. They can take the wheelhouse. All their possessions can be shipped after them. I'll send Clegane to you to dispatch as you see fit. Someone bring me wine."

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Hound arrives at the Hand of the King's solar. "The King has assigned me to your service Lord Hand to command as you will."

"Did he tell you why?"

"No."

"Where do your loyalties lie Clegane? There has been a shift of power. Your liege lord and your brother may soon be riding on the capital with a show of force."

"I am a Lannister man, but I answer to the King. Just as your Stark men would."

"Good. Cersei his confessed to her twin brother fathering her three children. The children leave for Casterly Rock, Jaime for the Wall and Cersei is at the King's mercy."

"Fuck me sideways. I need a drink." Lord Stark pours a glass of wine and hands it to him.

"The King thinks you should guard my children from Cersei's wrath. Can I trust you once Lord Tywin shows up at our gates?"

"Aye, I will keep your daughters safe. The little wolf wants to kill me over the butcher's boy."

"Rightfully so."

"I had my orders. I completed them."

"Well, your orders now are to keep my girls safe, and don't let Arya kill anyone." Ned hands him a sealed scroll. "Present this to my household guards." With that Sandor finishes his wine and stands and leaves. He makes it to the Tower of the Hand and presents his written orders. The guard reviews it and hands it back to The Hound. That man knocks on the Stark girls' door. Septa Mordane answers and the Stark girls can be heard in the background bickering. 'Fuck me' Sandor thinks. This maybe the only thing worse than being around the inbred cunt all day. Instead of keeping Joff and Tommen's cats separated, he has to guard these two together, and yet keep them separated. He needs more wine.

Septa Mordane tries to close the door in his face, but his hand merely resting on the door, prevents her full weight and effort from even budging the door. He smirks at the poor little woman and takes pity on her, handing her the orders and allowing her to close the door to read them. She timidly cracks the door open, "I do not understand what Lord Stark is thinking."

"He is thinking he wants his daughters to live. Step aside." She does as she is bid and Sandor "The Hound" Clegane strolls in, which silences the warring sisters. The moment of shock changes into pure rage as Arya charges at the giant and the next thing anyone sees is the blur of arms and legs as Ayra is being held upside down by one ankle. "Little wolf, I suggest you stop your fussing for your own good. It's been a long day and mayhaps my arm gets tired and I drop you off the balcony. Sandor examines the room and walks over to a couch and deposits her on her head and lays her inch by inch down, in what appears to be a temporary truce of peace.

"Why aren't you guarding Sansa's betrothed instead of bothering us."

"Your lord father will have to explain. If he is not here, I will be and you are both confined to your rooms, unless I'm with you."

Sansa peeps up then, "My lord what has happened? Is my beloved Prince Joffrey safe."

"Joffrey is safe. Your father will have to explain. Go on and do what you would do if I weren't here."

"I would be walking the gardens and visiting the sept. Am I allowed to leave?"

"No. Unless the little wolf wants to come too."

"Why would I visit a sept and garden with a murderer."

"Fine. Taunt a murderer. That's smart. We will just all sit hear until your father returns."

"Arya! You ruin everything."

"Your stupid prince ruins everything and now we are stuck with his stupid sworn shield."

"Lady Arya of House Stark. You will apologize immediately to Clegane. I have trained you better than this when dealing with the King's sworn men."

"But Septa, he's The Hound. He killed my friend."

"I require no apology from the wolf girl."

"I require it ser. She has been trained better than this."

"Not a ser. Just Clegane or Hound."


	4. The King Has Spoken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A private shame is made public. A living dynasty falls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yesterday for the first 30 mins the chapters were posted out of order. If the story made no sense, this could be why. Sorry. My computer hates me.

The next morning Cersei's children are brought to their mother in the presences of the King and the kingsguard. Joffrey whines his displeasures, "Mother why am I being sent to visit grandfather and where is my 'dog'. The crown prince cannot be traveling around like a vagabond, unguarded and without my royal trappings. The idiot maids did not even pack my Baratheon house colors when I asked them mother. I want them all punished for impertinence."

"Children, it has been decided, I will be traveling with you to visit your grandfather. I will explain more on the way."

"Tell them now, or I will," the King adds in, and Cersei gives him the cold fishwife look.

"Things have come to light that has caused your father to turn us out."

"I am giving you one last chance, and if I do have to tell them, the story will end quite differently for you."

She leers at the King, "I am no longer queen. I betrayed my vows to your father and have known another man."

"Then why doesn't father just throw you out and I stay here," Joffrey bites back.

"Cersei. Finish. This." the King bites out.

"The man with whom I betrayed my wedded vows is your father in truth, all three of you, not King Robert." She dissolves into sobs.

The King adds, "You will all be striped of my name and revert to the name of Lannister. Your mother will be exiled to Casterly Rock for her natural life. Your father will go to the Wall and take the black. He turns to Ser Barristan with his hand out for a formal scroll, "The High Septon has annulled our false and barren marriage." He hands it to her. "The announcement will be made in court this morning and is being sent out to all the houses of the Seven Kingdoms and beyond." He looks at each of the children and lingers longest on the girl who is no longer his daughter. She is the image of her mother-and her father, as she silently sobs. He takes one last look at the boys. Joffrey is seething and Tommen looks small and lost. The King's gut is twisted in knots. He glares at Cersei and she stoically looks at him with her head held defiantly high. He should have made her a head shorter. Fuck the promise he made to Ned, this bitch-in-heat should be dead, not just disgraced. He feels he will regret this promise. He turns on his heels and his entourage follow him out. Let her tell her kids their uncle is their father without him suffering through it. Ser Barristan is left behind to see them out of the western gate and lock it behind them. A legion of old cloaks will trail them until they reach Casterly Rock. If she is ever seen outside of the walls of Casterly Rock she will be executed on sight, her lovely head to decorate the battlement walls.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once Sandor reports to the Stark household, Lord Stark takes his leave. Sandor is beyond thrilled to spend his day with a girl who will try to kill him if his guard is down, a girl who will not look him in the eye, and a clueless septa teaching them everything that is a complete waste to help them survive in the world in which they live. He is already tired and the day has just started. He could let the little wolf kill him, and put him out of his misery. His self-pity is interrupted by a small," Ser Sandor?"

"Not a ser."

"Sorry my lord."

"Your chirping reminds me of those fancy little red birds from the summer isle. Quit chirping your learned courtesies at me. You are wasting your training on an old dog."

"You are not old or a dog, but as you wish. I do not know what to call you."

"Sandor."

"That would not be proper."

"Hound?" She shakes her head no.

"Clegane?" She gives him a single nod of acceptance.

"Ser-Clegane, what is going on? My lord father only said the Queen and her children are headed to live at Casterly Rock, and my betrothal to Prince Joffrey is formally canceled."

"Cersei is no longer queen, or married or the King. Her children have been declared bastards."

"Why,"

"Because they are bastards. The King is not their father."

"How is that possible. She is-was the queen."

"She was also sharing herself with another man. He is the father of her three children."

"Who is he?"

"Your lord father may need to discuss that with you later. You are too young to understand."

"I am ten and five. Old enough to marry. Is Joffrey like his father. Is that why he is so odd?"

"He is nothing like his father. You found him odd? I thought he was your beloved prince, your white knight in shinning armor."

"He could not even defeat my little sister. I blame him and myself for Lady and Mycah."

"Mycah?"

"The butcher's boy."

"I gave him a clean death. It was better than what waited for him if I brought him back alive. I did released your direwolf before Cersei gave the order to kill her. I knew the one boy would not be enough for her. Your two wolves are probably fighting as much as you and your sister."

"I always suspected it was you who let her free, but I could not risk saying anything, if I was wrong. How can I thank you?"

"Tell me why you can suddenly look me in the face."

"Your eyes used to scare me. They are not as angry as they used to be. What changed?"

"My charge." He looks at her with unreadable eyes.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Court was full. The Lord Hand had returned to his family and explained to him all he could. He took Sansa aside and told her a bit more than he could comfortable tell Arya. She now understood why Clegane did not feel it his place to tell her. He father said he would find her a good husband, one 'brave and gentle and strong'. He requested that Clegane bring his daughters to court in half an hour. Knowing the uncertain political climate and the nature of his former liege family, Sandor took the girls via the servants' back walkways, to keep them unseen until in the safety of the well protected Throne Room. He leads them to the back of the room and stands between them and an exit incase he needs to remove them quickly.

The King and small council marches into the room with the white cloaks behind them. Gold Cloaks then follow in and lined up along the walls two deep.

The King stood in front of the Iron Throne and silently commanded the attention of the room. "It is hereby ordered that Cersei Lannister, formerly Cersei Baratheon is now and forever more banished to live out her natural life within the sole domain of Casterly Rock. It is further recorded that her children Joffrey, Tommen and Myrcella Lannister, formerly Baratheon, be considered baseborn, as the issues of an illicit adulterous affair with her own twin brother Jaime Lannister." The crowd starts to loudly gasp, almost as one, and whisper among themselves.

"It is further ordered that Jaime Lannister be stripped of his knighthood and the possibility to inherit his father's lands and title by being sent to The Wall and swear his oath to the Night's Watch until the end or his natural life."

"It is ordered that the betrothal to the former Prince Joffrey Baratheon, now labeled a bastard, to Lady Sansa Stark it officially broken, forthwith." With that the King is handed the transcription of his order and signs it and Lord Hand Eddard Stark counter-signs it. The court session is closed and the King and Small Council march out.


	5. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since it was revealed that the King had no true born sons to which to pass his crown, Westeros began to feel an unnatural unrest. Then things get worse, people started to die in mass from a form of a disease that has not terrorized Westeros for more than a generation.

"Well, now that with the stroke of a quill I have no family, let's get back to the business of running my kingdom. What else are we dealing with Ned?"

"Finances and your heirs."

"Well, we have no money and I have no heirs. It should be a short council report."

"You have as many as ten and six baseborn children. We should legitimize them and bring the older ones into the Keep to foster. You also need a true born heir. We need to find a queen for you. We have started making subtle inquiries about suitable daughters of great houses."

"What about your great house? Sansa?"

"Your Grace, Sansa is still a child and was betrothed to your then son. It would continue the whispers of incest and adultery to pass her from son to father. We need someone mature enough to be a queen, now. Sansa still believes in fair maidens and brave knights. This is no time to grow into the role; and if the woman has already successfully birthed a child, that would also be something to consider."

"I understand about your daughter, but if I am to remarry, it will be to a maiden. Since it appears I failed in that the first time. I want to be sure the children are mine."

"As you say Your Grace. In that case House Tyrell wants you to consider their only daughter, Margaery. She is ten and seven and is independently reported to be a beauty."

"I'll meet with her."

"Her family is headed to the capital to broker a deal for food from the Reach for our winter supplies. We also have inquires from Houses Frey. House Martell refuses to be considered, because the Mountain was never punished for killing their princess on your behalf."

"No to the Freys. I have not fallen that low. Let's move on to the next matter. This one is doing my head in."

"Finances are worse. We essentially have no money. Lord Baelish has allowed twice as much spending during his entire tenure as Master of Coin then we collect; and there is no rhyme or reason to it. We owe the Iron Bank and Tywin Lannister three million gold dragons each. Lord Tywin may forgive it, given the crimes of his family against the crown. The Lannisters always pay their debt. We need to cancel the Tourney of the Hand, or turn it into a wedding feast."

"The tourney will allow me to see all the eligible maiden and make a final decision."

"If that is your will. The other matter is the position of Master of Coin. Baelish is once again missing from our meetings, so I suggest, given his busy schedule and side businesses, we allow him to focus on that and reward him with Harrenhal and it's lands for his service to the crown.

"Done. I don't think he can father children anyway, thanks to the duel he lost to your brother. The end of family line curse that follows that keep will not matter to him."

"I have interviewed a replacement based on several recommendations from other small counsel members. It is a controversial suggestion, but Lord Tyrion Lannister is an option for this disaster.

"Fucking Imp. He is as smart as he is short, but the little fuck is a Lannister."

"Salvaging one of his children will help us get Tywin to forgive the debt. Consider him a ward to keep Lord Tywin from open rebellion."

"Do it and keep him away from me."

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Tourney of the Hand has finally come and gone. The Hound won. The crown owes him forty thousand golden dragons, which it does not have to spare with winter coming. His mountainous brother beheaded his own giant horse with one blow, after being bested by Ser Loras Tyrell, on a mare in heat. The Hound saved the unarmed knight from the Mountain's attack. Yet, as much as The Hound is reported to hate his older brother, he never attempted a kill strike, while the Mountain tried to removed The Hounds unprotected head, more than once. Ned would recommend him to replace Jaime Lannister as kingsguard, but he likes the extra protection his fierce reputation gives his daughters during these turbulent times. It was one less thing for him to worry about.

Weeks after the knights and free riders and other visitors returned from the tourney to their homes across the Seven Kingdoms, reports start coming in that people are falling ill with a highly contagious disease that mirrors advanced greyscale, but it was killing people in a sennight, not a score of name days as greyscale usually would. Full blown panic is breaking out in heavily devastate areas. The dead were ordered to be burned to minimize contact with contaminated flesh.

The Small Counsel was having another emergency meeting to deal with all the 'fires' they need to douse on the continent.

"Ned what the fuck is going on in my kingdom. I think that lying, lion bitch Cersei put a curse on us."

"It is not a curse, but bad timing. Winter is coming, which creates its own unrest and panic. Now, something has awakened greyscale, but it is a virulent form never seen before. Maester Pycelle has the Citadel examining and researching the crisis. We are sending out orders to keep people from amassing in groups and avoiding unnecessary physical contact. The Citadel suggests washing with warm wine if contact is made with someone who you do not know is safe, and leaving cut onions in every room to help cleanse the air. Maester Pycelle has already met with Lord Stannis to get the names and details involved with curing Shireen of greyscale."

"Once deaths reach the tipping point in the Capital, there will be a full blown panic. We will need to shore up the gold cloaks with Baratheon soldiers. Ned, your North is reporting less cases then the other six kingdoms. Do you have any guesses as to why?"

"Yes, Your Grace. The North is less social and receives less outsiders due to the climate. With winter coming people stay close to home to bring in their final harvests, build up their stores and conserve resources. Outside shipments would have all but stopped before the tourney due to the unpredictable snows."

Maester Pycelle chimes in, "We need to use the example set in the North. I will draft rules for the rest of the Maesters in the various houses to limit social activities, in addition to washing surfaces down with boiled spirits and leaving cut onions about. I shall get them to report back to me and the Citadel on the progress and notable deaths."

A new voice is heard from, "First of all I would like to thank the King and Lord Hand for giving me the chance to distance myself from the rest of my family and perform as the new Master of Coin. Secondly, I will redirect all the funds we have to the effort of stopping the spread of greyscale. Lord Stark, I will leave it to you to hand your Hound the forty thousand dragon promissory note I need to draft. My head maybe ugly, but I am too short to loose it. Maybe Lady Sansa can tell him. Everything sound better from such an innocent and melodic voice," Tyrion Lannister chimes in jokingly.

"No, I'll do it. I would never hid behind my daughter. We'll dedicate every scribe we have in the Keep to write up the guideline to go out across the continent this week. We shall meet here again at the end of the week to get updates that come in from the kingdoms." With that the Small Council is dismissed and Lord Stark went back to his private rooms to check on his daughters and talk to The Hound.


	6. Valar Morghulis: The Stranger Gets His Due

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The greyscale death reports come flooding in.

Ned awaits The Hound's arrival to guard his daughters. Just like the sun rising in the east and setting in the west, Clegane walks in to take his assigned post. Lord Eddard first pulls him into his private solar to discuss the problem with the timing of paying his tourney prize. "Clegane, as you know we have a widespread epidemic of greyscale."

"Aye."

"Well, dealing with it is using up all of our coin reserves. We need to delay paying you your prize money."

"For how long and what will I get to compensate for this loan I am making to the crown?"

"What do want?"

"I have an idea. I will let you know, when I know for sure."

"Fine. Send a page with your request whenever you know. We will pay you when the crisis has passed, no more than six moons, I hope. I'll let you get back to your guard duties." Lord Stark leaves for the Small Council and Sandor Clegane takes up his post guarding the Stark ladies.

One morning shortly after started his new duties, he slept in and did not have time to break his fast. Lady Sansa refused to eat with him standing there as his stomach rumbling and would only eat once he accepted her invitation to join them. After staring daggers at him for half that first meal, he eventually won Lady Arya over with war stories and basic sword strategy. She no longer wanted to kill him, for now. As has become his custom with the Stark women, he sits down at their dining table and has a morning wine and warm bread with butter, he skips the honey, but has extra bacon with warm eggs.

After their meal Sansa wants to go for a walk in the gardens. While Arya refuses to go, Clegane agrees to accompany her. He needs to stretch his legs and work off the laziness from the big meal. He leads the little bird to the rarely used godswood. He hears her pray for an end to the pestilence that had taken so many lives and for a new, kind queen, not like Cersei who made Sandor chase Lady off, and she prayed for her family, including Ayra. The last thing she prays for is that her father betroths her to a man who is brave and gentle and strong, as he promised. She looks at Sandor Clegane through her eyelashes to gage his reaction to her request. She sees no reaction and sighs.

"Clegane, would you help me up, please." Without a word the large palm of an upturned hand is offered to her.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
The Small Council is gathered in a special meeting to deal with only one matter, greyscale. All the reports have been complied from across the kingdom and summarized for members of the council. Maester Pycelle hands out the pages. "Your Grace, Lord hand, the problem is coming to a head. Lord Hand I am sorry to inform you that a report has come in just this morning from Riverrun. Greyscale has stricken there and your good father has passes on as of three days ago and your good brother is gravely ill, Pycelle briefs.

"Ned, I am sorry. We will keep this meeting short so that you can send word to your wife," King Robert laments.

"Thank you Your Grace. I hate to send word in writing, but I cannot get to her. Dark wings, dark words." Ned shakes his head as his wife's words fall from his mouth. "Please continue, we all have things to attend to to hold this kingdom together."

"The biggest death toll is at the Twins. Despite our instructions to cancel group gatherings, the Freys had a wedding feast of one of the hundred sons or grandsons. The oldest and youngest members of the family are now dead, including Lord Walder Frey and the other half of the family is infected. The few that are not infected may soon be, unless they have a tolerance for the disease. House Frey will essentially be extinct in a fortnight. The last two members of House Bolton were also at the wedding, Lord Roose and his bastard Ramsay are also infected. Lord Bolton's Frey wife has already died of greyscale, taking his unborn legitimate heir with her. House Bolton will be extinct in a sennight."

"Close all the septs. Close every inns and taverns for a sennight, or better yet a fortnight. We will pay them to stay closed. It is the lesser cost of dealing with the spread of this disease. No one will travel from where they are to another area for that period, or I want their heads. Ned, since this House Bolton is yours and Houses Frey and Tully are soon to be yours by your wife, you need to choose the successors."

"First let me inform my wife and good sister on the passing of their father and illness of their only brother and heir."

"Certainly, take your time to grieve, but we must settle the matters of primogeniture. Unrest grows without a strong hands holding the reins."

"Yes, Your Grace. What other news Maester Pycelle?"

"We have a treatment from the maesters Lord Stannis used for Shireen. It will work on newly infected victims. Place the person in water as hot as they can stand. Then follow up with warm wine compresses and a heavy lambs wool oil to keep the skin soft. It seems to prohibit the spread on an new infection."

"Send out these instructions with the orders to stay away from group settings and the mandatory closures. Too late to help the wedding party at House Frey, but this will help bring this outbreaks to an end. Let us meet again in three days, unless something major occurs."

"Very well, your grace. The scribes are just waiting on these final instruction to reproduce and send throughout the kingdom." With the meeting adjourned Ned needs to prepares the dark words for his wife to be carried away on dark wings. Gods give him strength.


	7. The Debt Comes Due

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The greyscale spread slows to a stop. The final death tolls are accessed. Sandor Clegane announces what he wants for his unpaid prize money.

The Small Council meets again to dissect the greyscale damages to the kingdom. The King and Ned braced themselves for more devastating news. Maester Pycelle stands and unfurls his notes on the disease. "Your Grace, Lord Hand we are one week into the quarantine and we have had the number of new reported cases decrease by half. The spread has ebbed considerably. However, the toll on the strength of various houses has been great, with deaths to lords and their heirs across the kingdom. Your Grace, I just received a raven from Casterly Rock for your eyes only. I have not read it."

The King takes a long sigh and reaches for the offending scroll. You can see the debate raging in him. He hands the cursed raven message to Ned. "Let me know if there is anything I need to know."

Ned unrolls the scroll and reads it. "Can everyone step out for a few moments. Lord Tyrion stay." The room quickly empties and the door closes behind the last person.

"Gods, if it's from my sister, I may not want to know."

"Your Grace, Lord Tyrion, greyscale has taken both Lord Tywin and Joffrey. Mycella and Tommen are both gravely ill. I am very sorry."

"Tyrion you may leave. Send my condolences to your sister on the crown's behalf," the King states. After Tyrion's exit the King allows himself to cry for the children that were never his. Loss of the heir that never was' the odd boy he never took time to know, because he was so different from the son of his dreams. Not black of hair with Baratheon blue or Stark gray eyes, not held in the arms of his mother Lyanna.

"Robert," using his friends name instead of title. Let's me finish the meeting for you."

"No, this just shows that we need to get this right. I just need a few moments."

"The note also asks you to 'get Lord Baelish to make this stop'. What could she mean?"

"Who can tell. She was never in her right mind. Her parents were first cousins. Remind me to outlaw that."

"I will have to visit Lord Baelish. He now spends all his time in his 'establishments' until it is safe to travel to Harrenhal. I will surprise him there."

"Take our Hound with you. I've never trusted Littlefinger with his whispers and spiders and whorehouse gossips. If it involves Cersei, it will go far wrong. Bring everyone back in. Let's finish the business of the realm." Ned ushers the other members in, minus Lord Tyrion, and they go over the other notable deaths, now including Joffrey and Lord Tywin. They agree to go ahead with the second week of the quarantine and the travel ban. The meeting is called to an end and Ned heads to his private quarters to tell his daughter that her former betrothed has died and to tell Clegane his liege lord and his former charge have both died.

When he arrives home only Ayra is there with Septa Mordane and the household guard. "Where is Sansa and Clegane?"

"Clegane is escorting Sansa on a walk in the gardens, my lord," Septa Mordane informs him.

"I'll go find them."

"Father, can I go with you?"

"Why didn't you go with them in the first place?"

"They spend all their time together talking. It's boring."

"Do they now?" His eye narrowed. "Come along. Let us tour the gardens in search of our northern rose and westeron giant." They head out together with two household guards.

"Do you think the Hound has giant's blood? Is he from the north? He has gray eyes like us?

"I never noticed his eyes. He could be of northern blood further back, but he is most immediately from the Westerlands. You could ask him. What is the sigil for House Clegane?"

"Dogs, like his helm."

"What are the house colors?"

"Yellow and black."

"Very good. I must complement your septa."

"She didn't teach me that. Sansa is using those colors to sew something for him."

"Really, why is she making something for him?"

"She likes him."

"What do you mean? She likes having his protection?"

"I guess so. Ask her. She just said she likes him."

"Wait here with the guards."

"Why, what did I say?" Her father starts walking at almost a run and Arya was about to take off after him when one of his guards grabs her shoulders. Her cry of, "Let me go!" falls on deaf ears.

Lord Stark start looks in both of the nearby gardens and finds nothing. He heads to the next logical place, which is the godswood. He finds Sansa praying in front of the heart tree and Clegane stand guard over her. He overhears her purposely loud whisper. She is praying for 'a good husband that is brave and gentle and strong', but Clegane is oblivious to her looking at him through her lowered eyelashes with a smile on her lips and a blush to her cheeks. He should have sent her back to Winterfell. How could his sweet, perfect daughter fancy Sandor "The Hound" Clegane. As he watches Clegane attempt to help his daughter up he interrupts their moment, "Clegane, Sansa I need to speak to you both." Sandor and Ned both offer Sansa their hands to help her up, but she takes Sandor's hand without even a pause. When did he start to lose his little girl? "I have some news that just came in which I need to share with you both."

"Yes, Lord Hand." Clegane releases Sansa's hand, but she positions herself near Clegane. When did this familiarity happen?

"We received a raven from Lady Cersei this morning. Tommen and Mycella have contracted greyscale."

Sandor's eye turned cold and blank. "What's the rest?"

"How do you know there is more Clegane?"

"There is always more. People save the worst and best for last."

"Well, you are correct, there is more, and it is worse. Lord Tywin has succumb to grayscale- as have Lord Joffrey. I know you both had relationships with Joffrey. Clegane having lost both your liege lord and your former charge, I am giving you a few days off to take time for yourself. I can work from my private solar and watch the girls until you come back. Let's go back to the Tower."

"I'll finish the day.

"Father can I stay in the godswood for a while longer and pray for Tommen and Mycella, oh and Joffrey and Lord Lannister too, of course?"

"Sure, but I can only stay a few more minutes. I have to get back and clear my schedule ."

"Sandor can stay with me, can't you?

"Aye little-Lady Sansa."

When did his little lemon cake start calling The Hound by his given name? "Fine, but I need to run an errand shortly and I will be taking Clegane with me. You have half an hour." He notices the pinched look on his daughter's face. Was it his time limit or his taking away Clegane? Could she be that attached to Clegane? When did she become quietly willful? He takes his leave with his mind spinning. His little girl is pulling away from him.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clegane knocks on the door to Lord Ned's private solar. "Your daughter has returned to her room and I have sent the household guards to watch both your daughters.

"Thanks. We are heading to talk to Littlefinger in his establishment outside the Keep."

"Nothing involving Littlefucker ends well."

"That was my exact thought. That is why the King insisted I bring you."

"Which whorehouse is he in?"

"The one closest to the Keep. Easier to get back to the safety of the Keep, if there is unrest."

"I know where is it on the Street of Silk. Bring a long sword, incase a spider crawls out the walls." He walks to the door and holds it open for Lord Hand Stark, who is strapping on he regular duty sword.

Ned arrives at Littlefinger's whorehouse in twenty minutes. They decided that Sandor would come in after so it does not appear that they are together. He will just appear to be a client. A bit of a coincidence, them both being there, but it was all they had to go with on no notice. Ned enters and asks to speak with Lord Baelish.

He is lead up to the second floor of the establishment to Lord Baelish's office. "Lord Hand Stark, I am quite surprised to see you here. Are you in search of the services of my establishment?"

"Heavens no. We had a raven message come in this morning, and it asks us to ask you something."

"Who is asking what of me, Lord Hand?" said with a smile that does not reach his eyes. Ned removes the scroll from his tunic and hands it to Littlefinger. After reading it he looks like he is running calculations in his head. "I have no idea to what she is referring."

"Cersei loves her children, she would not waste time when time is of the essence. What is your involvement with this greyscale epidemic were she thinks you have the power to 'make this stop'?"

"Who else saw this message?"

"The King sent me to ask you, we were in a Small Council meeting when it was read." A bit of an exaggeration, but Littlefinger cannot get to everyone, if he believes more people know.

"You asked me the last time we met about you wife and good sister. I never had sex with your wife, but I thought I did. I got drunk after she married you and Lysa snuck into my room. In my haze I thought she was Cat. They looked more alike back then. The second time I took Lysa, she got with child and your good father threw me out, and forced her to take moontea to purge my quickened seed from her womb. Even Cat never knew. She lost all of Lord Arryn's get. Mine, she gives me a sickly boy, but my son will be the Warden of the East.

"You cuckold Lord Arryn! Do you really think that I will allow the child to stand as his only Heir? This will not stand. I will have to removed her from the Arryn estate and send he back to Riverrun. Did you kill Lord Arryn?"

"No she did, but it was my idea."

"Lord Petyr Baelish. I arrest you in the name of the crown."

"While I am confessing my crimes my lord, I received the enhanced greyscale contaminate from Qyburn at Cersei's request. All my girls have taken an antidote to protect them. I gave Cersei a false antidote to eliminate a witness. I am not sure why she is still alive. True evil never seems to dies, but without true power, she can only hurt me with what she knows, with no power to help me.

"There is something wrong with you. You have no friends, yet you kill your allies once you have used them."

"Leave no witnesses."

"And yet here I stand, in witness to your depravity."

"True. I should have planned better. Kettleblack!" The office door opens and then slams closed. Littlefinger steps away from Ned as Ned unsheathes his sword. "Once you are dead, I will marry Cat as I should have-", with that the entire door comes off the frame and flattens Kettleblack to the floor under it. For good measure The Hound drives his sword down through the door with both hands and stabs straight down through the sell sword, and then twists the blade with a crunch.

"I gave him a quick death, which is more than Littlefucker deserves." The Hound disengaged his sword and cleans it off on an upholstered chair before sheathing it.

"I don't know why you both are here. LEAVE!!!"

"You just confessed to the murder of tens of thousands of people; and conspiracy in the murder of the former Hand of the King."

"I confessed to nothing. You are just making this up because I just told you I slept with your wife and Robb is my son." With that lie Ned grabs him by the throat.

"I will gut you here and now."

Littlefinger squeaks out, "Not honorable."

Sandor speaks up, "He is honorable, I'm not. I'll gut you and strangle you with your own intestines."

"No Clegane, the public deserves a trial. Tie him up and bring him with us." Sandor grabs the rope holding the drapery back and tests them for strength. He ties Littlefucker's hands behind his back and Ned releases his neck. Sandor kicks the back of Littlefingers knees and knocks him to the ground and rolls him in a rug.

"Just so you know I heard everything. Kettleblack was so busy listening to be summoned. He did not sense me behind him." He bends down and hoist the rug over his shoulder and they both head out. Sandor ties the bundle to the back of Stranger and they race back to the Keep.

Two weeks later Littlefinger tries to win favor and save his own life by swearing it was a lie he started, besmirching Lady Catelyn Stark's honor and he signed over his ill gotten wealth to the crown. In exchange for that, Lord Hand Eddard Stark of Winterfell allows Ilyn Payne to use Ice to take his little head from his little shoulders, guaranteeing a him quick death. Littlefinger ended up a little headless. During his trial, Littlefinger implicated Qyburn, the non-maester as the source for the altered contagion and Lady Cersei as the requester for its distribution as revenge.

Qyburn is forced to share the instructions to reproduce the antidote with Maester Pycelle. Pycelle sends them onto the Citadel, and every available maester in the capital is working from the instructions to reproduce the antidote for their regions. King Robert decides to keep Qyburn alive, but under lock and key in case his manufactured disease flares up again. Ned is suspicious that the King may have other uses planned for Qyburn, but he cannot go against the orders of the King. He will, however, keep close eyes on the mad maester and inventory and control potions and tools to which he can have access.

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Sandor arrives at his post as usual and Lord Hand Eddard leave to deals with his overwhelming duties. Arya attacks The Hound as soon as her father is gone, this time with a thousand questions about Lord Baelish's execution, since she was not allowed to witness such a thing, which a Lord's daughter should not see.

Sansa keeps interrupting to steer the conversation to the latest court gossip, which includes The Hound loaning the crown his prize money in exchange for an added prize.

Arya jumps back into the conversation, "I think you should ask for a Valyrian steel sword and dragon eggs."

"A dog hatching eggs. And I have no use for anything that breathes fire. Valyrian sword, it cannot be found.

"We have Ice."

"Arya, it is not father's to give. It belongs to the future heirs of Winterfell. You know that. Sandor, you could ask for a lordship and lands and take a lady wife."

"Aye, that I could little bird, but I really would like one of them big fucking Valyrian steel swords," he barks out a hearty laugh to that. Sansa narrows her eyes at him, and folds her arms over her chest in a huff. He watches her quietly sitting and stewing. She is so fucking beautiful with her little feathers ruffled.

He has decided what the cost to the crown will be for his loan to the kingdom, and for his turn of his cloak to House Stark. He sends his private note to the King via a Stark house page. By the end of they day, the King sends his own page with a sealed order granting his requests. Lord Stark arrives half an hour after that.

"Clegane, in my solar, now." They both walk in and Lord Stark soundly slams the door.

"I was informed by the King of your request. Afraid to face me man-to-man?"

"Afraid of a 'no'. I needed a yes."

"Well, you got your yes at the cost of House Stark. The King refuses to change his mind."

"There is no one better suited to care for one of House Stark's most prized possessions. I can serve at Winterfell and -"

"Well, that is not an option. My wife, as the Heir to Riverrun, has instructed me to give the estate to Sansa. Clegane, you are to become, The Lord of Riverrun, Lord Paramount of the Trident as regent for Lady Sansa. The wedding will take place in a fortnight, at the King's command."

"I did not do it for the title and lands. I don't want them. I just want Lady Sansa."

"I know. That is the only reason I do not challenge you to a duel for going behind my back. She is a package deal and your punishment is the extra burdens of an overlord. I also will not force Sansa to be with a man that bests her father, then comes to her with my blood on his hands." Clegane wipes his hand down his face in a sudden exhaustion. "

"I wouldn't kill you, if you yielded."

"If I yielded, what kind of man would I be."

"Smart."

"When you have daughters, and I pray to the old gods you have many, you will know how helpless it feels when they pull away from you and towards a man you did not choose. Being the most feared warrior in Westeros will not serve you then, as being the second most powerful man in Westeros is not serving me now. Sit, let us come to terms." Ned pours them both a drink.

The two men sit down for hours well into dinner time. One talks, one has no choice but to listen and nod his head in agreement. Married in a fortnight; no bedding until Sansa reaches majority in one moon. No, it does not matter that she has already flowered; setup a home at Riverrun; produce lots of fat babes to keep Ned's lady wife distracted so she will not kill him for marrying Sansa off on orders of the King; name one son 'Hoster'; protect the Riverlands from all threats.

On the 'no bedding' order, Lord Hand Eddard had his doubts of Clegane's success, despite his reputation for keeping his promises. On the latter one's, he had little doubt of his future good son's success. Once an accord is reached, both men join the little ladies for dinner to inform Sansa.

"Sansa, Arya, Lord Clegane will be joining us for dinner. Septa Mordane have dinner sent in. Order extra. Then you are dismisses for the evening. I will have more instructions for you in the morning, when you report to your duties. Thank you." She nods and politely leaves despite Clegane taking her place at the family dinner. Courtesy is a lady's amour. She will eat with the other Septas tonight. 'Report to duty', since when has this been a duty? It is her life, her whole life. Now her place at the Stark table goes to the King's dog. She scolds herself for such un-Seven-like thoughts. It is not her place to question Lord Stark or belittle a fellow servant in his house; just get more of today's offerings, of chickens and boiled root vegetable for the Hound. Well, he can have all the blessed chickens he wants.  
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"Sansa, Clegane was kind enough to loan the crown his forty thousand golden dragons to help deal with this crisis. The King in his - wisdom, has decided to grant Clegane a lordship and a prize from House Stark, at Clegane's request."

"How dare you! You asked for a lordship and Ice, instead of me", Sansa spits as she runs out of the room.

"Father, The Hound is taking Ice? It's yours."

"No, Arya. He did not ask for Ice. Clegane, go after her. She is your responsibility from this day forward. She runs, but not very fast." Ned releases a great sigh at the irony, as Sandor heads out after his new betrothed. He finds her in the godswood.

"Little bird, why did you fly away?"

"You could have asked for me. Yet you asked for Ice."

"Why would you think that?"

"Arya, gave you the idea and you ran with it."

"Your father would prefer that I had asked for Ice, but I didn't."

"For what did you ask my father, my lord?" She gives him a hopeful, lopsided, tear stained, runny nosed smile.

"I did not really ask him for anything, for he would have denied my request."

"So you asked the King for a lordship."

"I see. When do you leave."

"After the wedding." She gasps and starts crying in earnest.

"Little bird, if you do not wish to wed me, I can release you from our betrothal. Your lord father will be happy and give you to some highborn lordling."

"We are betrothed?"

"Yes. We were trying to-", she flies into his arms and he cradles her against him. "We were trying to tell you before dinner. You ran, but not very fast." No other words were exchanged. He just held her perched in his arms. Laying a single kiss on the top of her head, he wipes her face and nose with his handkerchief.


	8. Wheelhouses, Boats and Carts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lady Stark makes a move.

The ravens flew back and forth between Winterfell and King's Landing with the betrothal news of Lord Sandor Clegane to Lady Sansa Stark, burning up time they did not have to finalize plans for the wedding. 'Sansa is too young to know her mind.' 'The King is not her father. He should not have approved of this behind our backs Ned.' 'She has moved from a crown prince to a second son of a landed knight. This is not to be tolerated.' 

Ned countered with, 'Sansa has strong feelings for him, and he for her.' 'It is by order of the King.' 'He is an honest man and loyal to his word.' 'Joffrey was a bastard born of incest. Clegane is now a high lord and Riverrun needs a strong hand. No man is stronger or more fierce.' Ned tries to soothe her while hiding his own doubts, because this horse has already been let out of the gate and is galloping free.

To say that Catelyn is furious is an understatement of Clegane proportions; more than that, she is disappointed. The first marriage among her children, yet Ned expects her to miss it. Because of the rush and the limitations of arguing via ravens, Catelyn insists on the wedding being moved back, until they could arrive from Winterfell. The only way to appease her, only slightly, is to postpone the wedding. Robb will stay behind, as there must always be a Stark at Winterfell. After Nymeria and Lady escaping Joffrey and Cersei's wrath, they don't want to risk losing any more direwolves on a trip south, therefore Shaggydog and Summer will stay with Grey Wind. It is easy securing travel arrangements for the Stark family for King's Landing in time for the new wedding date. Now that the travel ban is over and all had taken the antidote for 'Qyburn's Stone Kiss', as this enhanced strain of greyscale has come to be known, many men are hungry for work. The best and fasters means of travel by wheelhouse and boats are available and waiting to be chartered.

The wedding is moved back to now coincide with Sansa's name day. This allows almost a moon for the entire family to arrive in the capital, including poor little Bran. Cat needs to stop this wedding and she needs to be there in person to do it. She would take on the Others themselves to save her children. From his reputation The Hound is even more fearsome than the Others. If she does not put her foot down, and put end this complete and utter insanity, next they will try to marry Arya off to his monstrous brother.

She is frantically packing for a long trip and a longer stay. She must temper this with the need to travel fast and light. She has Robb follow her as she manages the household, so that he can run the estate while she is gone. She gives him various points of call and an estimated schedule to send raven messages with any needs or problems with which she must deal.

The day to leave finally arrives and the Stark contingency heads out of the front gate, into the an unknown life in the capital. She is traveling with Bran and Rickon, house guards, a chambermaid and a new nursemaid to help with Bran, since Maester Luwin must stay at Winterfell. At every stop Catelyn checks for messages and sends a raven to both King's Landing and Winterfell with her location and time update. At the final stop along the Blackwater Bay before King's Landing, Catelyn sends her estimated time of arrival as mid morning, two days hence. She spends what little quiet time she can carve out planning what she is going to say to Sansa and the King to fix their catastrophic errors in judgment.

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Finally, they pull into the port that accesses the Mud Gate by late morning. As she is standing by the railing of the boat with Rickon, Bran is sitting on a bench with the nurse, both boys are virtually humming with excitement. All of a sudden she sees a tall and imposing figure standing on the dock. She imagines the Titan of Braavos must look like the sentinel image he cuts. She surveys the shore, but does not see her lord husband. After the anchor is set and the gangplank is lowered Sandor Clegane marches up the to meet the Starks. 

As he gets to the deck he bows deeply, "Lady Stark. I am Lord Sandor Clegane. I was sent to escort you to the Tower of the Hand."

"Where is my family?"

"Lord Hand Stark wanted to surprise your daughters. They do not know you are coming. He is with them."

"He could not spare time to greet us after three weeks of travel."

"He is still managing the crisis from the greyscale pandemic. He cannot be spared for hours at a time, nor could he risk the exposure waiting in an open harbor. This way he can get his work done and one of us can be with your daughters."

"Why? What's going on."

"Lord Stark will share more details, but we are always on guard. Are all your belongings on deck?"

"Yes, everything is there." Pointing to the pile of chests and bags.

Sandor points to a man on the shore and signals him to board. Once they arrive, "See that all these things get loaded on the carts."

The men nod with a chorus of, "Yes, Hound."

Rickon, standing by Cat's side, "Are you The Hound?"

Sandor looks down at the Tully colored boy, "Aye."

"Mother said The Hound is a brute? What's a 'brute'?

Catelyn hisses out, "Rickon! Lord Clegane, my apologies."

"No need to apologize to me for the truth. Shall we head out?"

"Yes, I just need to carry Brand."

"I'll carry him."

"Oh, thank you. I shall carry Rickon."

"I can carry them both."

"Are you sure?"

"Aye, brute strength." He chuckles while Catelyn flushes red from neck to checks. Just like Sansa, he thinks.

He picks up Bran from the bench, and then has Catelyn hands him Rickon. He leads the way off to ship and the women folk follow him. The men offload the crates and bags.

Once they reach the shore, Sandor hands the smallest boy back to his mother, and ask Bran if he wants to ride with him on his horse.

Catelyn exclaims, "No! Without his legs he cannot balance."

"I will keep him safe."

"May I! Please mother? I have not been on a horse since I fell?"

"A horse cannot support you both Sweetling."

"That's my horse," pointing to the giant Stranger.

"Gods be good, he is a beast."

"A beast fit for a brute."

"In my defense Lord Clegane, we were never formally introduced on your visit to Winterfell. You do have a reputation."

"Aye, well earned at that. It will keep your daughter safe; as will my steel."

"Lord Clegane, if you are willing to forget I may have referred to you as a brute - perhaps once, you may ride Bran on your giant horse."

"I can do that my lady."

Once all the baggage is loaded and Lady Stark and her son and staff are loaded on the carts and carriage, Sandor and Lord Bran lead the small army of people toward the Keep atop his beast of a horse.

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Ned Stark receives a note from the his steward. He turns his attention to his daughters. "Girls, I need you both to dress for lunch, we are joining the King and his betrothed for lunch. Sansa, pick the dress for Arya-and no pants under the dress or riding boots."

"Father, no one will know," Arya protests.

"It is my wedding week and you could make it easier for all of us by not fighting on everything. Thank you very much. Is that not right father?"

"It certainly is. Arya if you follow your sister's instructions today, you both will get a wonderful gift at lunch."

"Come on Arya, if you mess this up for us, I will have Sandor hold you upside down over the balcony."

"He won't do it, stupid bird. He likes me more than you."

"He likes me best. Just for saying that, I am going to have the handmaid style your hair in the southron style. It is my week, and everyone has to listen to me." Arya actually hisses at her, but voices no further objections, over fears of being punished again for not cooperating this week. She already lost Needle until after the wedding, when she would not cooperate with the seamstress for a proper fitting for a new gown. Once both girls are dressed and coifed, they return to their father's solar. Lord Eddard has also changed clothes and brushed his hair, and Sandor is now waiting there.

"My lord where have you been? Father would not tell me, so I thought you might be getting me a wedding gift."

"Sorry to disappoint you little bird, I was working in another part of the grounds."

"Are you getting me a wedding gift?"

"What do you want?"

"If I have to tell you, then it will not be a surprise."

Ned has to laugh at that to himself. "Clegane, welcome to the world of women. We have to sit down over a horn of wine before the wedding, so I can share what I know. It will be a very short conversation."

"Aye, I have already gathered they are a big mystery." Sansa smiles about this, as if it is a compliment.

Arya chimes in, "Father, I'm hungry can we go eat now."

He sighs at his youngest daughter's manners. If he marries her to a high lord, she would probably be flogged over her lack of them, and he would have to call the banners to avenge her, or just send The Hound. "Arya, firstly its 'may we go eat'. Secondly, the King will have guest at this lunch, including the future queen. So everyone, please be on your best behaviors. Clegane lead the way."

Sandor holds out his arm for Sansa, and she accepts it and he leads her to lunch. Ned likewise offers his arm to Arya and she does a mock curtsey and takes his arm. She hopes they have peas. They are easy to throw without getting caught.

As the small group enters the King's private dining room, Sansa stops dead in her tracks and Arya walks right into her. Arya pushes her with a, 'Move'. Ned and Sandor cut their eyes to her and a small 'sorry' gets drowned out by a shocked 'Mother' from Sansa. Catelyn stands up and moves toward her daughters. Sandor steps aside and Arya steps from behind Sansa to see the truth of Sansa's excited exclamation. They are greeted by their mother grabbing both girls in a hug.

"Don't cry Sansa. I could not miss your wedding. We have much to talk about, and Arya you will not push your sister again." Then she kisses her wild daughter on the forehead before turning back to Sansa to give her a kiss as well. Ned picks up his sons while this show is going on. He has not seen Bran since he woke from his long sleep, after the fall from the broken tower. Ned looks at him like he cannot be real. Rickon looks bigger than when he left just six moons ago. He never wants to be separated from his family again. He has decided to turnover Winterfell to Robb and keep his family with him. He has already been working on a suitable match for Robb so that he may become a proper lord for Winterfell.

After the impromptu family reunion, the introductions are made by Ned, and Lady Margaery is introduced to all as the future queen. All are formally introduced to Lord Sandor Clegane as the future lord or Riverrun, and of Sansa Stark. During lunch Bran asks to go riding with Lord Sandor on his big black horse, and then Rickon asks too. Ned offers to take them riding, but they want to take turns riding on the giant glossy black horse. At least he still has Arya on his side.

"I want to go riding with them father," Arya traitorously informs him. He is almost tempted to buy a giant black horse of his own. The rest of the lunch is spent catching up with each other and sharing details of the upcoming wedding; the timing of the King's wedding; travel plans to Riverrun; staffing matters at Riverrun. Once the long lunch concludes Sandor takes the Stark children to the riding yard and Ned takes his wife to bed for a few hours. Once the are reacquainted with each other after six moons apart, Ned fills her in on the parts he could not send via raven message. Cersei and Petyr stared the greyscale outbreak for revenge. All three of Cersei's bastards and her father are dead by her own disease. They expected her to take revenge on his family for her fall from grace. For this reason the girls are never left without either him or Sandor in their company.

She informs him that a fortnight after Bran woke he remembered how he fell. He had seen the Queen and Kingslayer alone, writhing naked together in the broken tower. The Kingslayer pushed him out of the window to silence him. Ned seethes with this news. Having sworn the black, Jaime is absolved of all of his past crimes. Ned hopes the Others take him, literally. He will send a raven to Jon to let him know this information, so he will never turn his back to the Kingslayer. He can still punish Cersei for this new crime, and the release of the greyscale.

That night Catelyn visits Sansa in her room and brushes her hair to a shine. "Sansa when I sent you here, you were to marry a future king. I had reservations about the match, but I allowed your father to approve it. Now the King has made the match for you, and I am prepared to fight him on this."

"No, mother, I want this marriage; a life with Sandor."

"I have watched him since I arrived here, looking for a grand reason to bring to the King to release you from this wedding. He has been kind to your brothers, and your sister does not hate him anymore after the killing of the butcher's boy."

"Mycah. I should have told the truth, Joffrey attacked him, not the other way around."

"You are not to blame for - Mycah. You did what your position required, stood by the crown prince's words. Sandor has been gentle with you while your father and I were present, but we will not always be there, and he will not always be gentle."

"But he is gentle with me mother. He is strong and brave and gentle, just what father said he wanted for me."

"Well, Sansa I need to educate you on men and the marriage bed."

"Oh, can we do this another day, or Septa Mordane can educate me. It is her job."

"No. It is a mother's job. She knows what the books say, but not how it actually is. One day you will sit down with your own daughters the week of their weddings and have this same discussion. What has the septa told you? We can start there."

"She said that once I am married I will share my husband's bed, and give him heirs."

"Anything else?"

"She said to lay still, it will hurt, but he will be quickly done with his business, and I will have beautiful healthy babes."

"Well, she is talking from a place of no personal knowledge. Has Lord Clegane said anything about the marriage bed?"

"No, mother. That would not be proper."

"Has he kissed you?"

"Once."

"Did he take the kiss or did you give it?"

"I was crying, and he kissed my forehead."

"Did he make you cry?", in a protective motherly tone.

"Yes," in a small little girl voice.

"What had he done?"

"He and father were trying to tell me about his betrothal request granted by the King."

"And you were upset about the match."

"Oh, no. It's really Arya's fault I cried. She had suggested that Sandor ask the King for a dragon's egg, or a Valerian steel sword. When father said the King granted him a prize from House Stark, I thought he asked for Ice instead of me. So I ran, and father told me he sent Sandor after me."

"I see. Is that the only time?"

"Yes. Maybe he does not want me." Sansa looks a little panicked at the possibility.

"No, he wants you. I saw the way he looked at you when he thinks no one would see it. That is the first sign a man gives you when his interests have moved to the marriage bed."

"How he looks at you?" She shakes her head confused.

"Yes. When you see the look, you will know what I mean, but for now I can say it is a look of hunger and longing that speaks to your core. Your body will hopefully respond, matching his interest. You will hopefully feel flutters in your lower belly like butterflies, or little birds and below that you will feel moisture in your woman's place.

"I should wash then?"

"No sweetling. The moister you will need. Your husband's manhood, when he has need of you, will become larger and very hard. When he takes you into the marriage bed, he will kiss you and touch you in places that would not be appropriate for anyone else to touch you. Once he feels you are ready, his manhood will enter your woman's place and slide in and out until he spills his seed into you. The first time will tear you maiden's veil, and there will be a lot of pain and a little bit of blood. We will not be checking your sheets, like we did in my time. Hopefully, in time, there will be pleasure that chases out the pain, and you may also find your release. Maester Luwin says that when a woman has this release, a babe is more likely to quicken in her womb. Do you have any questions yet?"

"Yet? There is more?" Sansa's neck and face has been red since her mother started the lecture. Now the back of her head is heated and throbbing.

"Yes. When you do become with child it will take several weeks to know. You will miss your moonblood and your stomach may turn sour at any time with little notice, but mostly during the mornings. Actually, just about anytime, in the case of Rickon it was all day, everyday for weeks. You will carry a child for almost ten moons and your moonblood will not start again until a few moons after the babe is born."

"That part will be nice."

"When was your last moonblood, Sansa?"

"A sennight ago."

"Good timing for the wedding. No husband should take his husbandly rights when you are having your moonblood, but if they insist, it may be uncomfortable. Put an extra linen on the bed that can be removed when you are done." Sansa nods her head while looking at her clinched hands in her lap. "Your father will talk with your intended to insure he shows you the respect due your station."

"No mother. Gods in the seven heavens please, no. He cannot. I will never be able to face either of them."

"I promise Sansa it will be handled with the utmost grace and discretion on your father's part."

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"Clegane, I have to say that the thought of any man with my little innocent girl gives me pause and makes my stomach clinch. The thought of the hardened Hound with her makes my heart stop. My lady wife asked me to talk with you on a delicate matter."

"Aye, I can imagine her problem. Let me save you some embarrassment, I will never hurt her. Never raise a hand to her. I am definitely not a patient man, but I will always be patient with her. You have my word."

"That's good to hear, but my wife's issue is - more specific and more delicate." With that Lord Hand Eddard Stark of Winterfell flushes red like a septa walking in the wrong bathhouse door.

"Aye, I see her problem. Well, I do intend to take my husbandly rights after the wedding, and the first night will not be comfortable for her, but I will not willingly hurt her.

"There's that, but there is also more. My wife it aware of your reputation with 'bed warmers'. She understands that your past experiences would be-seven hells."

"For my benefit only."

"Yes. She wants Sansa to not regard her wedded bed as a duty. She has tasked me to instructing you on the nature of women."

"Fuck me sideways."

"Me too," from there, Ned when through a litany of notes for his future good son, the exchange had them both flushed red and embarrassed to be talking about Sansa in such away. However, Lady Stark was not to be denied, and she will quiz Ned thoroughly tonight.

"Any questions Clegane?"

"Gods be damned. I may never be able to look your lady wife in the eye again. Is she having the same discussion with Sansa tonight?"

"Sadly, yes, more or less. When you have a houseful of daughters, you will feel my pain."

"No doubt about that. Here's to having sons, lots of sons, only sons." They two men toast to a litter full of sons, with Ned secretly praying to the old gods for lots of tall beautiful girls, as his revenge on this man for turning his daughter into a woman in four days hence.

The next morning they all break their fasts together, and the boys ask The Hound a thousand questions. He offers to take them out to the training yard before lunch and watch him spar with the kingsguard. Of course Arya insists on going. Sansa looks hurt about being left out, but she has to go over all the wedding plans with her mother, a final fitting on her wedding dress, delivery of the wedding cloaks and inspection of the kitchens for food supplies for the menu. She and Sandor have not looked each other in the eyes with her parents present, since their separate lectures. Any time he looks toward her she looks away blushing from the neck up. They all go their separate ways after the meal to do their separate duties.

After Catelyn sobs over the wedding dress, they go over the floor plans for the small wedding feast. No one has large feast since the mass deaths after the Frey wedding, now known as the Grey Wedding. The finished dress will be delivered in the morning. The final details are finalized as lunch time nears. When they arrive no one is in the family rooms with them, except the houses guards that have been shadowing them. They head to the training yard to find the boys and get them fed and in bed for a nap. Catelyn is shocked by what she sees once the arrive. Clegane, sans shirt and glistening with the sheen of sweat.

She looks at Sansa who is staring like a deer caught by a crossbow, smiling like a court fool. "Clegane where is your shirt. This is most improper for a high lord."

"I had to give it to Trant to stop the bleeding of his arm. He thought my having a blunted sword was a good time to insult my future wife with ribald humor in front of her kin."

"Was he badly hurt?"

"He'll live. His shield arm will need stiches and I need a new shirt." He gathers up Bran and Catelyn grabs Rickon and they all head in to wash for lunch. Sansa walks behind Sandor and talks to Bran over her almost husband's shoulder. However, her eyes are focused only on the broad back and tense muscles of Sandor Clegane, so much so that she fails to keep up her conversation with her brother. He shouts her name and their entire party turns to her including Sandor. She is now beet red after being caught being unladylike, on the cusp of her wedding. She fixes her eyes on the ground as their continues on into the Tower of the Hand.

Sandor sets down Bran and heads out to wash and change into proper clothing. When he returns the lunch has just arrive and Lord Stark has joined them. "Clegane what happened to Trant?"

"Training accident."

"With a blunt sword?"

"He had live steel and not enough strength to stop it from swinging his way when I blocked it with a bit too much force."

Ned takes Sandor aside to be filled in on the missing information. "My wife said Trant insulted Sansa, but she did not know what was said and the boys have no understanding that anything untoward was said."

"It had to do with what hounds do to wolves. Your sons did not understand it, but the other guards heard. Now they all know, do not touch on what is mine."

"That they do. The news reached me in my office."

"Trant should not train with an edged sword, unless he can handle it." With that said, they all sit down to a lunch and discuss the wedding now three days away. Sansa finally meeting his eyes for the first time this day, and still blushing like a maiden in a flesh house. Well, the maiden half is true.

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Sandor had been relieved of all duties in the three days before his wedding. With the extra Stark guards Lady Stark brought, he feels better about not being there every waking hour. He spends the time in final fittings and breaking in his new black boots, polishing his ceremonial sword, getting his hair trimmed. He runs into town to kill time and visits a few shops along the way. He had previously spent most of his waking hours in the Stark household. Without his good family he and Stranger roam around the city that they will soon be leaving for good. He has always hated King's Landing, since arriving after Robert's Rebellion. It is known to him, and familiar, and safe in the routine of his days. Now, he is taking a maiden wife and heading off to rule an unfamiliar land with untested management skills.

He steps into a tavern he has spent time in over the years to have an ale and think. A familiar serving wench brings over his order. "Hound, I hear you are leaving us soon."

"Aye getting married. Taking over lordship of Riverrun." He usually does not share with people, but he is proud that he will be lord, with Sansa as his lady wife.

"So it's true. You are marrying the Stark girl."

The corner of his mouth twitches as his fights against a smile, "In three days. Since you asked about me marrying, if a man was to buy you a wedding gift what would you want?"

"Hum, jewelry, fine silk small clothes, baby clothes. Things you cannot get easily once you leave the capital. Maybe a fine robe or dress if you know her size."

"She's about this big. Holding his hand up from the ground giving an approximation of her height."

"You best avoid dresses, Lord Hound."

"I should just buy her a new horse for the trip."

"So you want to sleep alone."

"Fuck. When do you get off your shift?"

"As soon as you finish that drink and tip me. I'll help pick out dream wedding gifts for your bride."

"I will pay you a golden dragon for your assistance." Sandor finished his drink to fortify him for something he never does, shop for a woman.

They spend the next few hours shopping in all the fine shops of her the maid's fantasy. He buys a black pearl and sapphire necklace and earring set; an assortment of silk small clothes and stockings; and sleeping gowns, and a few dresses in three of their house colors, autumn wheat, blue and white. They find one shop that has clothing for babes. He is at a loss of what to get and is uncomfortable about getting anything. "Milord, you can buy something now and give it to her when the time is right," is the advice from the girl he learns is named Marei.

He selects a yellow cotton gown. Fit for a little lord or a little lady. He cannot resist but to also grab an outfit for a boy. The idea of girls frightens him, so he puts his faith in fathering sons. He is afraid to invest more. It is not the money, but the fear of investing his heart into something he never thought possible, a beautiful wife and a home full of children. The thought sends a shiver down his spin. He concludes he has spent enough time away from his little bird and pays Marei the gold dragon he promised, and a silver stag, because he feel the gifts will be perfect for his wife-his wife. He shakes his head at the unbelievable turn of events in his life. Marei even made sure each shop wrapped the gifts so he would not have to worry about it.

"Milord thank you for sharing this taste of the good life with me."

"Aye. - Do you have kids?"

"No, nor a husband. Why?"

"My bride will need a staff at Riverrun. Her handmaiden is staying in the capital. It's a week on the road."

"A lady's maid. Fancy that, milord. We're both coming up in the world." He gives her the departure time to be ready and gets the location from which to have he picked up after the wedding to travel to Riverrun. She gives her boss notice and spends the next few days packing her belongs and saying her fair thee wells to her friends.

Once he arrives back at the Keep, he takes a long bath before joining the Starks before dinner. He sees Sansa, but she does not look happy to see him. What the fuck happened while he was gone.

"Good day my lord."

"Little bird, you don't have to call me 'my lord'."

"Where were you today. I wanted to see you."

"You saw me at lunch. I ran to town to get some things for the wedding and our travels. I also found a woman to hire who will come to Riverrun to serve."

"You were gone all day to find a woman."

"No. I had her help me with some errands in the city. She was not annoying, so I hired her to help you travel and help replenish the lost staff."

"Sīkudi nopāzmi! I could have gone with you. I am to be your wife in three days."

"Little bird, your mother would not have stood for it. Also, I was shopping for your wedding gifts, so you could not have come. I needed a woman's eye, unless you want to wear chainmail to bed. Wait, did you just curse?"

"Um, no? Do you know High Valyrian?"

"I do. I spent a lot of time with our maester as a boy. There is no language you can say 'seven hells' in that I will not understand."

"Avy jorrāelan."

"I love you also, my little bird." She smiles shyly at him. "I told you I know High Valyrian."

"I thought perhaps you only knew the bawdy bits. Arya and I are the only ones in the family that speak Valyrian. It is not needed in the north, but I asked Maester Luwin for lesson, while all the others played outside. Arya learned it as punishment to curb her wild ways." He laughs at that.

"It didn't work for her. Well, in three days little bird, ñuhor līr gūrēnna. Does that scare you?" she blushes as his gray eye bore into her.

"You will take what is yours?" He looks her in the eye and nods his head slowly. She blushes and looks away. He places the side of his bent index finger under her chin and tilts her chin up. His head dips down to kiss her properly for the first time. Their lips meet tentatively. When she gasps he uses her breach to brush his tongue against the moisture of her lips. His tongue continues past her teeth and touches her retreating tongue. He groans deeply and she sighs and places her palms over the flat plates of his chest. She can feel his heart pounding against his studded leather armor. He pulls away wanting more, refusing to take it until it is his right. She tries to chase after his lips, but he raises to his full height. "After dinner I won't see you until the wedding."

"I know. Mother prepared me for this. It is a tradition, because intendeds tend to fight as the wedding gets closer. Then you have to marry someone who you want to stab in the eye."

"You could never stab me in the eye. You would end up slicing into your own fingers."

"Says you."

"It's not like I'm an expert with weapons, or have any experience with green boys and dagger cuts from an improper grip." The tight, pinched look on her face confirms he is testing her sweet disposition, and proving why grooms and brides should be separated right before the wedding. He will have to find things to keep himself occupied for the next three days. He will definitely have the sharpest weapons in Westeros, if left to his own devises.

Before the rest of her family arrives for dinner, Sandor kisses her on he cheek and forehead to soothe her ruffled feathers and thinks better of staying for dinner. He will have a lifetime with her. Her family has her for less than half a sennight. He bids her a stoic farewell until their wedding day, and roams the halls of the Keep. He mentally runs through plans to get him to the wedding and then he lets his dreams run free. He does not want to bring his troubles from his past to his marriage. He has already limited himself to two cups of wine per day, ever since he started guarding the Stark sisters.

He wants to give Sansa the best he can offer her. He worries that she may regret marrying 'The Hound' one day. He runs his hand over his face and thinks back on the mad non-maester's interest in his ravaged visage years ago. He did not trust it then, but now he knows this man liked trying the impossible; prove the maesters of the Citadel that he is their better. His steps took him to where the man is under house arrest. He will see what could be done before the wedding to improve his scarring and aid in a more complete healing of the irritated flesh. Originally, Sandor had had enough of maesters toughing his abused face when the nerves were still raw and tinder. Before he could not think on another one touching his face, even more than half his life later, and certainly not a reject from the Citadel. Now, he might be willing to take the risk to offer his lady something better.

Qyburn's abilities with working with potions and impacting life and death on a massive scale are not in doubt. He is taking a big chance trusting this man with the most important day of his life. He has already been given more than his lot in life should allow, as a second son of a minor house of the Westerlands. An improved face was more than he ever dared dream. He knew his long dead mother and sister would wish this for him. His ruined face by Gregor's hands had broken their hearts. If this worked, he would pray to the Mother and the Maiden, for his mother's and sister's hands would have been in this. Mayhaps he would find his faith again. If it failed he could be none the worst.

He arrives at the suite where Qyburn is held. Two Baratheon guards are stationed at the room's door. He is allowed in with out a moment's delay.

"Lord Clegane, so wonderful to see you. I hear you are to marry soon."

"Aye."

"Well, most of the old lords that visit me are looking for potions to make them more virile. You are a little young for that issue. In one so young, it can add excitement in bedding a wife."

"Not hear for that, not yet at least. You said before you could repair some of my scars."

"Yes, I can. When is the wedding?"

"Three days hence, sunset."

"I will not be able to use stitches. No time for them to heal. Unless... Let me look through my supplies. Lord Hand Stark deprived me of many of my experiments." He goes into another room and Sandor can hear wooden crates scraping on stone, and bottles knocking against each other. Several minutes later the man emerges with his arms full. He sets the things down on the worktable. "Please sit on the cot I need to exam you more closely." Sandor moves to the cot and sits. "Let's take the armor off so I can exam the entire affected area." Sandor removes his soft armor, chainmail and tunic. Qyburn turns his face this way and that. He moves a candle too close as he takes a closer look in the waning light. Sandor pushes it out of his personal space.

"Would you like some wine to calm your nerves."

"Dornish red if you have it." He downs the cup and Qyburn sits in front of him and explains what he can do. The words start to make no sense to him. He feels very sleepy, 'FUCK, me sidewa-' is his last thought as he falls back onto the cot snoring even before he lands.


	9. The Mirror Has Two Faces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding day arrives. Will The Hound?

Sandor awakes from a dreamless sleep and feels like he could eat an entire feast by himself. He tries to sit up, but is failing to budge from his bed- not his bed, but a cot. He wonders why he is on a cot. He lifts his head from the cot, but it only moves an a small faction. He can see with his limited field of vision, he is tied down; wrapped with overlapping lengths of linen strips . He looks around to see where he is and what he can use within his reach to free himself. Nothing. He remembers heading to Qyburn's suite to have him examine his face, but that is the last of his memories. The light coming in the windows tells him it is late morning. He has been here overnight. He tries to wiggle free, but the bindings were tied with his strength in mind. No room for him to generate the force to rip them to shreds. Fuck.

"Oiy, are you here?"

He hears light steps.

"Lord Clegane, you have finally rejoined us."

"Free me," delivered with as much of his menacing rasp as his parched throat could muster. "They will be looking for me. I marry in two days."

"Lord Hand Stark knows you are here. The Stark guards heard from the Baratheon guards. However, today is your wedding day. You have been sleep for two days."

"The fuck! Untie me."

"I plan too. I am not holding you against your will. I had you wrapped so that you could not injury my work and you could heal properly. Also, I opened all the widows to the chill the room. So the extra bindings also keep your body warm, while I keep your head cool. It kept your face from swelling and bruising."

"What the fuck did you do to me. I just asked you to examine me."

"I have a lot of damage to make up for Lord Clegane. You are my first good deed to earn my life back. Lord Hand was pleased with my work and may give me more freedom."

"Tell me?"

"Your nose looked like it had been broken twice.

"Three times."

"Well, now it is four. I had to break it to set it properly. The burned section scalp was cut out and I stretched the healthy scalp over the area."

"You turned me into a worse monster before my wedding."

"No my lord. I used the agent I added to the greyscale infection. It sped up your healing. The stitches are already removed. I could not repair your missing ear or eyebrow. I did shave your face. I did not want to trying and damaging the skin. Don't shave again for a sennight. I also trimmed your hair. It was uneven once I stretched it. I also cut out the areas of skin on your face that had not healed properly and joined the healthy skin together. You no longer have the exposed bone. Releasing the scar tissue under the skin, gave me enough room to cover the area. It is going to be tight as it finishes healing completely, so be gentle with it. Kissing should best wait past the wedding kiss for a sennight to retain the integrity of my work.

"I'm getting married today and you made it impossible for me to kiss my bride for a sennight"

"I would prefer a fortnight, but a sennight will do. After a fortnight you can exercise to face to help the skin relax. Opening and closing your mouth, creasing and relaxing your forehead. Take small bites of cut foods for the fortnight. I will give written instructions to your bride after the wedding to see that you are held to them."

"Free me. I need to prepare for my wedding."

"Just to ensure that you do not kill me for putting you to sleep without your permission, let me show you your repaired face."

"I don't want to see it. I just want to eat and bathe."

"But my lord-"

"Free me!"

"You will not hurt me."

"I don't have time. Free me."

"Be gentle when you wash your face and hair. I have a special soap for you to use for the next two moons. It has no lye in it, and it stays in liquid form.

"Free me. I will not ask again."

"Yes my lord." He begins to unwrap Clegane and prays he does not kill him once his hands are free. Qyburn can feel the man's grey angry eyes boring into him. If he just would look at his work he would be happy.

Once Clegane is freed, he stands to his full height; towering menacingly over the man. "Where are my clothes and why did you remove them?

"I examined you from head to toe. You are a rare specimen. Do you have giant's blood? I can give you an oil that will help with your bedding tonight. You smear it on-"

"My clothes, now," barely containing his rage. Once he is dressed he yanks the door open and storms through the halls to his room. He orders a large hot bath and a large hot meal from an owl-eyed chambermaid working in his area. The food arrives before the bath and he eats his fill then organizes his clothes. He has about four hours before the wedding. He is lucky today he only has to dress and show up. After his bath he lies down in his own oversized bed for want of anything else to do. He is honest and admits to himself he is afraid to look at his face, afraid to show his face to Sansa, afraid to get his hopes up. He wonders if his face is truly repaired, what will be lost, as his world has always balanced any good with a lot of bad. Could this be the good he has been owed for so long, or is there bad due soon to balance out everything he has recently been given? If he holds on to his old face until after the wedding, mayhap he can postpone the bad and keep it away from his marriage, his little bird.

He drifts off to sleep and only wakes when someone bangs on his barred door. "Clegane, it's Jory Cassel. Lady Stark sent me to give you your one hour warning. I will be back to escort you to the godswood. I'll bring your groom's cloak then. Lady Sansa will not let it go just yet."

"Aye," he shouts from his bed. He briefly wonders if he had dreamed the events of earlier today. Is still dreaming this is his wedding day? Mayhaps Sansa is a dream, because she is too perfect to be real; too beautiful and highborn to be his. Will the little bird really be his and he hers? For the first time he gingerly lifts his hand to his face. The angry flesh is now smooth, but a little tinder. He finds that odd. The searing pain when his brother melted his face faded in the moons after. By his eight name day, he lost all feeling on the burned side of his face. His hand reaches his nose. The hook from it being broken and never set is gone, but there is no pain. His hand extends to his hair line, which starts much closer to his face on the burnt side. His ear and eyebrow are still in fact missing, but the rest of the riot of damage was cut away and his face patched back together with the remaining pieces .

He gets out of bed and heads to the wash basin to splash cold water on his face. He runs some of the water through his hair so that he can comb it over his face, as he always has, so it will stay there when it dries. He rinses off his body just to wake up fully after his drug aided sleep. He slips into the new small clothes and stockings. He grabs the custom made tunic and the new fitted black wool breeches, Sansa insisted on. He prefers them looser for fighting. She had given his tailor silk sigil patches she had time to embroider when the wedding had been postponed. The Clegane sigil is now stitched on the chest of his tunic and below the waist of his breeches.

Once his is fully dress he puts on his new sword belt with dogs, birds, wolves and fish detailed on it. He puts in his ceremonial sword and decorative dagger. He tucks his everyday sheathed dagger in the back of his belt. A weapon no one is expecting is your friend. He looks around the room to see if he forgot anything. He looks in his full-length mirror, which for him cuts off at the neck. He still has not looked at his face. The alteration of his face, combined with his wedding is almost too much for he to hold himself calm on the outside, while his is molten steel churning on the inside.

Finally, there is the knock on the door. He opens it for Jory and lets him in.

"Hound, your cloak." He is staring at Sandor's face.

"What the fuck are you looking at Cassel?"

"We heard from the Baratheon guards that you had visited the mad maester, after no one could find you yesterday, Ned and I burst into his rooms. We found he had healed the damage to your face and was keeping you sleep to speed the recovery. Lord Stark checked on you personally two more times to make sure you were safe."

"Does Sansa know what happened?"

"No. Looking at you, I may have him repair my scar. The mad fucker made you better looking than me. Why do you have your hair hiding it still?"

"I have not looked. I cannot deal with it now. It's too much. I just want to get through the next few hours. How is Sansa?" Sandor puts on his groom's cloak and looks at it in the headless mirror.

"She still wouldn't give up your cloak. So Arya grab it from her and ran. Sansa is trussed up in her dress tighter then you were on that cot. She couldn't put up a proper fight. It's time. Ready Hound?"

"No, but let's go."

They arrive at the heart tree. There was a hush in the godswood that matches the seriousness or the occasion. The only sound is Lady Stark sniffling. Jory stands with him in place of his family. Sandor looks around and all eyes are on him. He nervously looks up to the sky to calm his soul. There are audible gasps from the small crowd. His hair had slipped out of place from covering the left side of his face. Those gathered now catch a glimpse of his repaired face. He uses his warrior skills to tune it out. He realized that this is a moment when the damaged corner of his mouth would normally twitch.

He turns to say something to Jory, when movement at the back of the godswood catches his attention. He sees a flash of red hair, tousled in the breeze. Sansa and Lord Eddard Stark round the turn to the pathway that will lead her to him. She takes his breath away and his eyes are stinging in a way that has not happened in the adult half his life. Thank the gods all eyes are on her, as a tear rolls down the repaired side of his face. Except, that he feels eyes on him, and sees that Lady Stark is the only one looking at him, why isn't she looking at Sansa. Lady Stark gives him the first smile he has ever received from her, and they both wipe their eyes. Lady Catelyn then turns to watch Sansa pass down the leaf and flower pedal strewn path.

Sansa smiles at her mother and then turns to Sandor. Her smile melts his heart and soul. How did this delicate little bird burrow her way into his very essence. Spending every day with her, for the last four moons showed him what his life could be and he welcomes it with his eyes and arms open; his heart and mind full with her. The little bird is placed in front of him, Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell gives the first of his children away in marriage before the old gods.

Their vows are exchange before the old gods and a chaste kiss is given, with a gagging sound from Arya, and a chastising look to end her foolishness from her lady mother. Sansa places her hand gently on Sandor's still healing cheek with a question in her eyes. He places his hand over hers and moves her palm to his lips where he kisses her. He leads her off to the sept wedding that was added at Lady Catelyn's insistence. There small group follows them.

In the sept the group settles in their seats, the house guards line the back. The kingsguard stand behind King Robert and Lady Margaery. Ned sits with his family, as this time Lord Sandor Clegane escorts his wife Lady Sansa Clegane, nee Stark, down the aisle himself. Vows are once again exchanged, this time before the seven. Ned steps forward to remove her maiden cloak. At least she did not put up an argument against it. Ned thinks he is lucky she did not throw it at him in her haste to regain her groom's cloak. Ned drapes it over his forearm and places a hand tenderly on it for what it represents; the loss of innocence. He sits down again with his wife. He hands her the cloak. After his last conversation with Sandor, he wants no further reminders of it. He wife lovingly folds it and whispers to Ayra. Arya's face tells the tale of her not wanting to eventually wear the maiden's cloak. Ned envisions Arya dragging the too long cloak through every mud puddle she can find on her way to the heart tree.

In Cat's haste to pack and her confidence in stopping the wedding, she did not bring the original Stark family cloak. Robb's future wife and his children will now receive that cloak. This new Stark cloak will also serve as the groom's cloak for Rickon and poor Bran, if the gods will it so.

Ned watches Sandor drape his cloak over Sansa's shoulders, but fails to avert his eyes in time for the second wedding kiss. It is longer and Sandor's hands go on top of the cloak, around Sansa's waist. Ned thinks that his little fingers are touching the top of her bottom. Ned clears his throat loudly, and Sandor's hands and lips release Ned's daughter. Gods get him through this night, and into the morning, his little girl is now and forever The Hound's wife. Ned needs a drink, no, a flagon of drinks. It won't be so bad knowing his innocent daughter will be sharing a bed with The Hound once the grandchildren come. He is still praying for lots of girls. May this man truly feel his pain. He needs to find a wife to Robb soon. Then this pain can be another man's problem.

At to the wedding feast, Sandor and Sansa sit and talk most of the evening. Arya is seated with Gendry Baratheon. She is talking and he is listing to her going on and on about Needle and water dancing. The boy actually seems interested in it. His training in courtly manners on display. Ned is sure that with his father's name and his Baratheon looks, they can make a good match for him. As he looks on at them, the King elbows him in the side and suggest a possible new tie to bind their families. Ned is too worn down to even entertain that thought tonight, so he just smiles with a, 'Let us get you properly married first Your Grace'. They are both very young. Gods make this night end.

When he gets out of his own misery and looks around, he sees that Sansa and Sandor have snuck out. He hoped they would leave before the call for a bedding is made and he has to kill any man that rips at his daughter's wedding gown. Now to get the King drunk enough to not notice and to end any more talk of more matches.

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Sandor quietly leads Sansa by the hand through the kitchen to avoid the wedding guests and guards. She is still wrapped in his groom's cloak. She only removed it during dinner for fear of spilling on it. They arrive at their temporary rooms in Maegors. He did not want to sleep in the Tower of the Hand under his good father's roof; and they could not share his room surrounded by soldiers and ribald jokes. Trant still cannot use his shield arm. Sansa informed him during dinner that her mother arranged a room she thought suitable for them, no matter how short their stay will be.

Sandor gets them to the general area and Sansa leads the way to the room. He opens the door and has her wait in the entryway, while he examines the security of the room. He sees that someone has moved his personal belonging to the room and unpacked them. He returns to Sansa and offers her his arm to lead her into their room. "Do you want me to find a chambermaid to help you into your sleeping gown?"

She approaches the bed and turns her back to him and slides her hair over her shoulder. She takes a deep breath, "No, my lord."

Sandor stalls by first washing his hands and face. He steps over to remove his Clegane cloak from her. He buys more time by hanging the cloak in the armoire. His chest tightens when he sees their clothing sitting side by side. "Please sit, little bird." She does as she is bid and perches on the bed. He sits in a chair and takes the time to remove his boots. He had lost the days he was going to take to finish breaking them in, and he just wants to be comfortable in this uncomfortable situation.

"May I help you, my lord."

"Sandor, call me Sandor, little bird."

"May I call you 'husband'?" He nods a yes. She approaches him and lifts his foot to remove his boot. She repeats the process for the other foot. She sets his boots at the foot of their bed. She returns and unbuckles his sword belt to remove it, and places it on the bed post on his side of the bed. Her mother told her that men sleep on the side closest to the bedroom door. She asked her mother what if the foot of the bed faces the door. Her mother just looked at her with a smile and said, 'Then have him move the bed.'

When Sansa returns she grabs the wine jug and pours a cup of Dornish red for him. She passes him the cup and he drinks it in two gulps, then he sits the cup down. She sits in his lap and removes her own shoes before she folds herself completely in that perch. She wraps one hand around his shoulder and nestles up against his chest, her face against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. He kisses the crown of her head. "Why did you do it?"

"Do what little bird?

"Change your face."

"I wanted to offer you something better."

"You already were something better." He holds her tighter and strokes her back.

"I had just wanted to talk to him about helping it heal, finally. He slipped a sleep agent in my drink and I woke up changed. I have not seen it yet."

"Why?"

"I have been The Lannister Hound so long, then I because the Stark Hound, then the little bird's Hound. With all the change in a life full of routine, staying The Hound was comfortable. I wanted to hold onto who I was used to be. Now I am a lord and your lord husband. It felt like rushing off the edge a cliff into the unknown."

"So you did not want to marry."

"I want you, whatever form that takes. The Hound is afraid of nothing."

"Except fire."

"Aye, and maiden little birds. Lord Sandor Clegane is afraid of disappointing you.

She pushes away from him, "You are afraid of me?"

"But mostly fire. I never got the chance to give you your wedding gifts."

"You got me gifts." He pats her on the rear and she first blushes, then stands at his silent request. He marches over to his bags and riffles through them until he fines her gifts. When he stands and turns, Sansa is right behind him. "I got you a wedding gift too."

"Did you now. Well, since today is also your name day, I got you name day gifts as well. You go first." He walks the gifts to the bed and she opens them one by one. The dresses are beautiful, and they look the right size. She is happy he took a woman shopping with him. The fabrics are soft and delicate and beautiful. Perfect to be Lady Clegane of Riverrun. She then opens the fancy small clothes, the likes of which she has never seen. She is used to heavier fabric, and more fabric. The stockings are silk and shear, with blue ribbons on the top. She has only had wool stockings. The way he looks at her send a blush over her face and neck and a heat further down.

"These are so beautiful, Sandor." He just nods and hands her another gift. She then opens the sleeping gowns. There is more fabric, but they are also finer they she is used to growing up in the cold North. He hands her the last package. It is in a small silk velvet pouch. She literally gasps when she sees them. "May I sleep in them tonight?"

"No little bird. They could get damaged." Her eyes go wide. "I mean they could get caught in your hair, while you sleep."

"Oh, yes. You are right. I shall wear them to dinner tomorrow with the blue dress you gave me. What is in that package?"

"Something I meant to give you later."

"Can I have it now, please husband?" He should have stored these is his saddle bag. He cannot resist her. No man with blood pumping in his veins could withstand her. Those big blue pleading eyes and pink pouting lips could ask him for everything he has.

She opens the package, while he gets up to get more wine to calm his nerves. He hears her coo over them like they are an actual babe.

"As beautiful as all the other gifts are, these are my favorite. This yellow gown will work for a girl or boy, but with the other outfit I will definitely have to give you a son." She springs up from the bed and puts the gifts away in various assigned locations in their room. She returns to him with a gift in her extended hand. "I was not allowed to go out to shop, but mother had this and suggested I give it to you as a my wedding gift."

He opens the silk wrapped gift to see an ancient Valyrian steel long dagger. "I've always wanted some Valyrian steel." He removes his old dagger from the back of his waistband, and examine it next to the gift. He moves both to the bedside table on his side of the bed. "It's getting late little bird past both our bedtimes. Let me help you with your dress." She stands from the bed and turns her back him. He begins to unlace her dress, tempted to use the new dagger on the laces. Once he has conquered the laces, he pushed the dress off her shoulders, but she slips away from him and takes her new white night gown, and scurries behind the modesty screen. The room is silent for a few minutes with the exception of the sound of cloths shifting against flesh and deep breaths coming from the other side of the screen.

The little bird finally emerges from the screen and stops dead in her tracks, looking more like a big owl than a little bird. Sandor had undressed while she was changing. She is looking at him like he has just sprouted a second head. As he thinks about it, he has. A large, angry head that is desperately in need of attention. Apparently, her mother's bedding lesson failed to mention how a man in this much need would look, or mayhaps his size worries her.

He moves to her and places his hands on her shoulder and gives her a reassuring squeeze, while he kisses her forehead. He then lifts his frozen bride and carries her to the bed and lowers her to the feather mattress, where he has already turned down the sheets. He climbs in next to her and covers her with the linens and furs. "You're shaking. Are you chilled little bird, or is it me that frightens you?"

"You said something like that to me when we were on the King's Road from Winterfell."

"Aye. I can keep you warm. I will try to calm your fears. I want you to want to be with me. In time you will be more comfortable." He pulls her close to him to share his warmth. He holds her and strokes her hair and back until she stops shaking. He tentatively kisses her forehead again; then her nose, her cheek, finally her mouth. She tastes like the lemon cakes she ate at their wedding feast. "I love you little bird. I will keep you safe. No one will every hurt you, or I will kill them."

"I love you. Will you kiss me again, my lord?" He answers her with a kiss. The kiss lingers and deepens. Her tongue now swirls with his and she sighs into his mouth. He shifts his body over hers and rests his weight on his knees, which strattle her thighs, and his forearms by her shoulders. He lifts one arm and places his hand on her waist and strokes circles over her waist with his thumb. He pulls away from her and sits back. He pulls her to sit up.

"Take off your gown for me Sansa. She bites her lower lip and nobs just once. Her fingers reach for the hem of her gown and she slowly inches it up. He watches heatedly as her legs are revealed. She shifts to get the gown from under her hips. He can see she is not wearing small clothes. That makes his balls tighten and his cock jump, when Sansa sees that and freezes. His need for her is testing his patience. He involuntarily reaches down and strokes his cock a few times to calm is hunger. He grabs her gown and lifts it the rest of the way from her body and drops it at the foot of the bed. He sits back on his heels and takes in her full beauty for the first time.

"I am cold my lord." She need say no more. He lays her back down. He runs his hands up her legs, over he knees and halfway up her thighs. He uses his hands to spread her thighs open. He does not think she is still cold. Even in the dim light, he can see a hot flush spread over her entire body. It is a darker shade of pale, and he can see the glistening of her wet cunt. Had he not needed to keep her warm, he could kneel there all night and look at this part of the seven heavens. He lowers himself between her legs and begins kissing her again. Fuck Qyburn. It is his wedding night.

After a few minutes, he moves his attentions from her mouth to her neck, then to her ear to whisper to her, "I will never be ungentle with you, but if will hurt in the beginning." He can feel her nod against his cheek. He kisses her forehead. Then he reaches down to take himself in hand. He rubs his dripping tip up and down against her slit, over her clit and back down past her opening. After the forth time he puts the tip against her opening and whispers 'my little bird'. While looking into her eye, he trusts his cock half way into her, claiming her as his forever. She gasps and he studies face. The last thing he will remember on the day that he dies, will be her face as she became is wife in truth. She is a mixture of pain and beauty, innocence and womanhood. He kisses her forehead to help soothe her pain, but makes no other moves for a few moments.

Once she starts to relax around his cock, he kisses her passionately. He pulls out of her slightly and then strokes into her again. This time he enters her a little deeper. Seven hells, she is so tight around him, so wet. He may spill his seed before he is sheathed completely in her, like some green boy. As he slowly thrusts deeper into her, she soon takes all of him. Sansa's hands slide over Sandor's back and she grips onto his shoulders and pulls him tighter to her. He bows himself to kiss a trails from her neck to her breast, taking the left in his mouth causing her to hiss. He releases her breast and thrusts faster and deeper. He will not last much longer. He has not had a woman since he started guarding the little bird, his little bird. She bites into his shoulder and he hears a muffled moan. That causes him to spill his seed into his wife. He continues to slowly thrust into her until he goes soft and slips out. She is glowing with a shy smile and a sheen of sweet. He kisses her deeply and rolls off of her, pulling her close to him.

“I take it you are not cold anymore. Are you sore?”

“A little my lord, but not enough to not want to do it again.”

“Give him a few minutes, and your wish is my command, my lady.”


	10. The Lady and the Pea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The newlyweds spend awkward time with Sansa's family before heading to Riverrun.

They never got the chance to make love a second time on their wedding night. Sandor drifted off to sleep shortly after his breathing returned to normal. Sansa did not mind. She knew he has been through a lot after seeing his face during the wedding. Her father filled her in on the missing details while they danced.

Sansa uses their proximity in bed to examine his face more closely as he slumbers. She hopes it makes him happy, but he did not need to do it for her. He is the same man she was drawn to, no matter his face. She leans over to kiss his healed cheek and rests her head on his chest, listening to his heart beating soundly in his chest. It lulls her to sleep until past the first morning light.

It is not even the light streaming in the windows that wakes her. It is Sandor leaving the bed, their wedded bed. She watches him walk away from her place, tucked under the covers. His body rivals the Warrior statue from the sept where they were married. He turns and catches her watching him. He chuckles to himself as he throws on some clothes and leaves for the privy and then orders a hot bath for his wife.

"Sansa I promised your father that you will break your fast with them this morning."

"Can we not just eat in our rooms, my lord?"

He grumbles at her courtesies, "No, they want to see that you are safe and sound."

"Tell them so. After the things we did last night, I do not think I can look them in the eyes."

"We did nothing unusual. Nothing more than your parents do. I took no extra liberties."

"My parents do no such things. What other liberties are there, my lord?"

"Little bird, I have spilled my seed in your wet, pulsing cunt. No more 'my lords'. We will explore those 'liberties' when you will not be sitting at the table with your family in an hour."

She turns redder than her hair, "Yes, my lo-husband-Sandor."

"I'll find your chambermaid to help you get ready. I'll bathe in my old room." He takes a change of clothes with him. 

After making arrangements to get Sansa situated, he heads to the training field to get his skills back up to his standards. After a couple of hours of sparing and enduring endless good natured jokes about his face and his wedding night, Sandor heads to his longtime room. The bath and food he ordered are delivered. He has spent years in this room. After he checks his room and hidden areas for extra weapons and money he has hidden in various crack, crevices and loose boards, he takes his leave of it, and never looks back.

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Sansa arrives at the Tower of the Hand accompanied by Stark household guards. She is not sure why Sandor did not come with her, but she is happy to spend time with her family before she leaves for Riverrun in two days. As soon as she walks in the door she is accosted by both of her parents in an overwhelming hug. "I cannot breathe," is all she can squeak out. They both let her go and Sansa takes a step back to catch her breath.

"How is my little lemon cake?"

"I am well father. I am rather hungry."

"Certainly, come in. You look beautiful," Catelyn adds while looking her over from head to toe. "When did you have time to get her this dress Ned. And the jewelry is better than anything I own."

"Oh no mother. They are wedding and name day gifts from my lord husband." Sansa gives them her brightest smile, and then gives them her most graceful courtesy.

"Ned, I thought you said the treasury has not released Clegane's prize money as of yet."

"We have not Cat. He must have saved his salary, and he has won other tourneys."

"I also have a white dress, an autumn wheat dress, and some, um, incidentals." Her cheeks pink up and she looks at the ground. They can just imagine what 'incidentals' are.

"Well, let us eat before the boys start complaining." They all sit down and soon get into their old rhythm from Winterfell. Arya teases her about being an old married lady. Lady Sansa Clegane does not even take the bait. Catelyn notices the change in her since Winterfell, and already misses her warring little girls. Sansa now sits before Cat as a high lady, almost ready to rule her ancestral lands. After they eat Cat spends the morning educating Sansa on the basic things she will need to know to manager as the Lady of Riverrun. There are so many details to set them up for success, but Catelyn has to prioritize with the limited time.

They lose track of time. The next thing they realize it is lunchtime, and Lord Sandor Clegane is standing before them. "Lady Stark, Lady Clegane."

"Lord Clegane. Please, you and Sansa join us for lunch."

"Thank you my lady, but I do have lunch waiting us. My apologies. We can come back for dinner and Sansa can break her fast with you on the morrow and the next day."

"We will set the table for you both. I would love for you to join us. It will give me a chance to get to know you better and to discuss Riverrun with you."

"Aye, Lady Catelyn. Thank you." He offers Sansa his hand to help her up and places it on his arm as he escorts her out of the Hand's suite and to their rooms. Sandor opens their door for her.

"Sandor, where is the lunch?"

"Well, I could not very well tell your mother my blood was up from sparring, and I have need of you in my bed."

"So you lied. 'A hound will die for you, but never lie to you.'"

"I am dying for you right now, and I plan to feast on you. So it is not a complete lie. I'll help you undress."

"But it is daytime and what if I am hungry?"

He sighs, "Would you like me to have lunch brought up?"

"No, I was just wondering if you would offer."

"Do I get a prize for passing your test?"

"What do you want?" She had not seen that look in his eyes, even on their wedding night, but she recognizes the look of hunger instinctively, it spoke to her core, just as her mother informed her. Her body respond and she could feel a heat and moisture pooling in her woman's place, as she begins to take off her jewelry. He removes his tunic, then helps her out of her dress. He then strips off the rest of his clothes. He leads her to the bed and sits her down. He kneels before her to help her out of her stockings. He rises to moves the delicate stockings to a chair.

"Let down your hair." She does as she is bid. He watches the bun on the crown of her head tumble down. As he approaches the bed again, Sansa scoots back to her side and pulls back the covers and gets under them. He follows her under.

He unties and removes her small clothes while looking into her eye. "Are you wet for me Sansa?"

"I think so." He slips his hand under the covers and slides her shift up to remove it. She lifts up and pulls it over her head. He kisses her lips gently and moves to her neck as he lays her back onto the bed. He continues down to the fullness of her right teat and sucks on the skin there. He makes sure it is below her dress neckline, for he knows he will mark her. Mine! He moves to her nipple. She runs her fingers through his hair, holding him against her. He kisses further down to her belly. He can smell her hot, wet cunt. He is tempted to really feast on her, but since they have to face the little birds family in a few hours, he will save that delicacy for the privacy of Riverrun.

He slips his left hand between her thighs, and slides it up her thigh to her center. She is definitely wet and ready. His hand explores the slicks folds of her lower lips and opening. His middle finger slips inside or her. Her initial shock gives way as his thumb brushes across another secret part of her. He leans over and whispers into her ear, "Do you ever touch yourself here?" She shakes her head 'no'. "I want to watch as you sing for me."

A puzzled, breathless, "Now?" is all she can manage.

"Soon, and I am not asking for 'The Mother's Hymn'. I did enjoy your bite last night wolf girl, but I want you to call out my name when you find your pleasure." He increases the speed of stroking in and out of her. Between the wet sound and her eyes closing he knows she is getting close. He pulls out of her and uses his wet fingers to stroke himself a few times. He then turns his attention back to her cunt. He focuses on a spot that seems to make her the most responsive. As he speeds up she start letting out high pitched pants and her eyes shoot open in shock as she cries out wantonly. He dips his mouth down to his wife's ear, "That's the song I wanted Sansa. You will never sing it for anyone else. It's ours." His warm breath on her ear sent shivers down her spine.

"Please forgive me for being wanton."

"What happens between us in our bed will never leave our bedroom. I want you wanton. I want you screaming out my name." He moves over her and slips his right knee between her thighs and slides her thigh open. The left knee slips in and moves her other leg to make room for him. She is looking into his eyes to calm her nerves as he settles his hips into the perfect fit of her. He bows his back to kiss her gently and maintain his more intimate contact with her. He takes himself in hand and slips the head of his cock into the wet core of her. He slips into he cunt to his balls with little resistance. He takea long slow stokes and soon Sansa moves with him. He loves her wanton, willing; hungry for him. She sighs his name in a whisper he almost misses. It makes his balls tighten. He thrusts harder and can hear the slap of skin matching the snap of his hips, the glide of hers.

Today is so much better than yesterday for him, yet yesterday was the best thing to ever happen to him. Today he is not still foggy with the fatigue of being drugged, and is not afraid of her maiden's veil doing battle with his girth, nor is her faced with her pained looks. She is flushed, and aroused, and beautiful, and wholly his.

He whispers into her ear and the secret he tells her makes her hold him closer. Her feet hook together behind his arse. He buries his face in the crook of her neck and speeds up the thrust of his hips. Sansa digs her fingers into his hair to pull his head up so that she can look him in the eyes. Shortly after their eyes meet, she surprises herself when she screams out her release so loudly that she is sure it could not be her that she is hearing. He studies her face while she loses herself in those moments. Gods she is beautiful. His eyes betray him and close against his will. His pleasure slams into him like a war hammer to the head. He looses himself in it and is not aware of time.

His next memory is her warm hand on his repaired cheek wiping away warm tears with her thumb. He can actually feel the warmth and her delicate fingers. He does not even have the strength to support himself at the moment and rests his full weight on this little bird. She only holds him tighter, nestles his head into the her chest and strokes her fingers through his hair. He wakes up hours later in almost the same position. She is so still and peaceful that he almost thinks his has squashed the life out of her. As he tries to shift his considerable weight off of her, she pulls against him with a 'No, stay.'

"I don't want to crush you," he counters.

"You would never hurt me. I feel warm and protected with you surrounding me."

He settles back onto of her. "We have to wash and dress soon to meet your family for dinner."

"Just a few more minutes. They I shall release you."

"Aye, little bird."

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They are walking as fast as her long legs can carry her. He matches her step, despite being able to easily out pace her. She is afraid that her parent will know what they were doing, if they are late. He is sure they will know regardless, but will feign ignorance. He will be sensitive to her shyness in this matter, and not tease her in front of them. They arrive and Jory opens the door as soon as they arrive. He gives a raised eyebrow and smirk to Sandor and jerks he head toward the little bird's back. Sandor realizes his hand is on the small of her back, and it feels so natural that he did not even notice he was doing it. He removes his hand before they walk in. Giving Jory a thank you nod. As soon as they are announced they are swarmed by the entire family including Septa Mordane. Sandor has to remember to be on his best behavior. Only one day left before they leave. Let her have her family on good terms. He will take a step back and watch them lavish attention on his wife.

Thank the gods they sat immediately to eat. They not only missed lunch, but also worked up quite an appetite. Plus, it is chicken, his favorite. He is so hungry that he could eat a every fucking chicken in the Keep. He ends up devouring an entire chicken and Sansa eats half of one by herself. He notices that her mother is watching Sansa eat. She knows they did not eat lunch, because they were otherwise engaged. Fuck it. He's starving.

"Sandor, is everything set for your departure," Ned asks. He knows his wife hopes they will delay for a week or two, but her ancestral home needs a strong hand immediately.

"Aye. I spent the morning finalizing arraignments after sparing. The king has given me ten Baratheon men to travel with, and I hired a maid to tend to Sansa. She will arrive in the morning to pack up the rooms. Most of our thing are already packed from changing rooms yesterday."

"Once you are settled, perhaps Ned and I, or just me may come and visit; at your invitation of course. I have not seen my old home in a decade."

"Lady Catelyn, you are welcome whenever you wish to come. You could even travel with us." Everything in him is praying she says no.

"Ned could I. That would be lovely."

"Sorry, Cat. You have already traveled half way down the continents and the boys need their mother. We will all travel together once everything settles down with the kingdom and I can be spared.

Cats lips disappear in a tight line, then she turns to her good son, "Thank you Sandor for the invitation, but I shall have to visit you at another time."

"The invitation stands as long as I am lord of Riverrun."

Arya chimes in, "Can I go with them father."

Every adult except Sandor says 'No'. However, Arya singles out Sansa and throws a spoonful of peas at her. They hit her décolletage and slide down the bodice of her sheath. She yells out, "Arya," and storms out the room. Catelyn rises to follow her, when Ned settles her back down. Sandor rises from the table after give Arya a stern look of disapproval; and follows his wife's trail, punctuated sporadically by peas on the ground. He finds her in her old bedroom. She is jumping up and down in an odd manner.

"Is that the latest court dance little bird?"

"I hate her."

"Peas down your dress are no reason to hate her. She is a good child, just wild. She is going to miss you, but the she wolf can't say it, so she shows it."

"With peas?"

"Aye, with peas. Be happy it was not whipped potatoes" She has to laugh at that. "Here, let me help you. Watching you wiggling around like that could get you good and properly fucked, while your family eats in the other room." She makes him wash his hands before he touches her beautiful silk dress. He loosens her ties and pulls the bodice away from her chest so that the peas can fall out. She wiggles around to shake them free then steps aside to see if they fell out. He kneels down to pick them up.

"There is one more, but it is not coming out. I cannot reach it without being improper. You have to go under my skirt to get it. I can feel it sitting on the lace of my small clothes." He rifles through the various levels of fabric before he reaches her legs. He follows it up on a mission extract the offending pea. When he reaches it he hears an gasp and a 'Sansa' behind him and Sansa hits him on the shoulder.

"What? I found it."

Ned indignantly asks, "Lord Clegane, you could not even wait until you return to your rooms?"

He removes his arm from under her dress. "No, well, yes, but - I was removing a pea she could not reach." He adds the pea to the ones in his palm from the floor. "There is also a trail of them on the floor."

"Well, join us and finish your dinner."

"Thank you father. I just need to fix my dress." With that he leaves and closes the door behind him. Sandor throws the offending peas away and fixes the ties on her dress.

"Will he tell mother?"

"Absolutely." She sighs and smoothes her skirts. As they head back he sees his good father has picked up the green pea trail. Once they arrive back at the table, Arya issues an apology her mother probably extorted out of her. Sansa graciously accepts it because she is a lady, and a high lady at that. As they eat, they go back to a lively talk about Riverrun facts and shortcuts to the keep. They all sit and talk until it is the boys bedtime. Sandor and Sansa take their leave and both are so full that he is sure they will pass out as soon as their heads hit the pillow.

Little did Sandor know that watching his wife undress would make him hungry for a second 'dessert'. They have another helping shortly after. As he falls asleep, he realizes he need to make sure she has plenty of padding on her seat in the wagon and they get inn rooms away from the others.


	11. The Road to Riverrun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord and Lady Clegane leave the Red Keep to take over Riverrun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the LONG delay. I have had the epilogue chapter written for 9 months, and I was trying to wrap this story up with one more chapter before it. I failed. It was like trying to put a watermelon in a banana skin. One more chapter after this, THEN the birth of the epilogue.

Marei arrives on the cart sent to her room in a home in Flea Bottom with all her possessions. They are mainly clothing and a few mementos. The men put her things in the room she has been assigned until the morrow. She immediately seeks out her lord and lady. She is allowed into the rooms and Lady Clegane, as Sansa loves to be called, not for the title, but for the thrill of being the wife of Sandor Clegane. Marei introduces herself to her lady and gets right to the task at hand, packing.

Sansa directs her new handmaiden on what to pack in each crate. She chats with the woman to find out why her husband hired her for their move. She rules her out as a former lover. She also rules her out a close friends, for he had none. However, the woman was honest and plain spoken and she has an affable easy manner that sits well with Sansa. Her first adult friend, perhaps. They spend the day packing and talking and Sandor periodically checks in and has the packed trunks moved to the wagon they will take.

At day's end Sansa and Sandor have their last meal with her family. Sansa is so excited about her new grown up life as the lady of her mother's ancestral lands, that she talks non-stop. Her mother is teary eyed the entire time with a mixture of her first child leaving her for good, and her first home passing out of Tully hands. She also imagined her grand children and the tears started to roll. Ned strokes her back and hands her his handkerchief.

"I cannot believe Sansa is the first to leave me. She is like my own shadow."

"Mother, you may visit us any time you please."

"She will come once you have had a chance to get settled and once the boys are acclimated to the capital, and have recovered from their journey to the capital. I will hire a second septa to help when you leave for your visit." Ned squeezes Cat's hand and she gives him a hopeful smile.

"Sandor, Sansa are you all packed for your departure?"

"Yes, father. Sandor hired a handmaiden for me. She help me pack today. I quite like her."

"I would have helped, but your father wanted you to handle your own household affairs," Cat laments.

They spend the rest of the evening in companionable conversation before saying their last farewells. The Cleganes dismissed all the maids and Marei before dinner, and helped each other prepare for bed. He releases the ties and stays and boning trapping his wife in her Lady Clegane form. Once he is done, all that is left is his little bird, his wife. He undresses and washes up before joining Sansa in bed naked as his name day.

She tries to have a conversation with him about their travels and questions about inns. He informs her that they will travel faster, if they only sleep in inns that they encounter at the end of the day; which based on their route will only be half the days for the sennight of travel. The possibility of sleeping in a tent both frightens and excites her. When they traveled from Winterfell, she and Arya shared rooms in various inns and on one occasion the Queen's wheelhouse. Arya always took up most of the bed despite being half Sansa's size. Sandor falls asleep while she is talking, but she is too overwrought to sleep.

After tossing and turning, for she knows not how longs, Sansa rolls toward her husband. He is sleeping so soundly that you could mistake him for stone, except for rise and fall of his chest. She decides to stare at him, like Lady would do her in the mornings, to be let out of the room to roam free.

"Little bird, I can feel your eyes on me."

"I cannot sleep my lord."

"I can order something from the maester, or warm milk from the kitchen."

"No. I do not want those. I want you, my lord."

"I don't want to exhaust you before we ride out."

"Perhaps, I shall exhaust you."

"Mayhaps. I'm awake now. Do your worst." She sits up on her knees and removes her night shift. She catlike sprawls across Sandor's chest and places her lips to his neck, her hands locked into his long locks. She knows he likes it when she does that. Her thigh slides across his. Sandor's hands claim her, one hand on her back, the other around her thigh, pulling her fully atop him. His hands slowly stroke her down her back from neck to arse, and back up again. She moves her face from his neck and looks at him with sleep hooded, sex hooded eyes. She tries to slip off of him, so she can take her 'proper' position under him, but his hands are a loving cage locking her on top of him.

"Stay perched on me little bird."

"My lord, it's not proper. Besides, I don't know what to do."

"Sit up." She does as her lord husband bids. He lifts her hips up and slides his hand between her thighs and over to her slit. She was so hot and wet for him. The more they couple, the more she seeks out their intimacies. She lets herself verbalize her wantonness as she grows used to sharing his bed and sharing her body with him. He takes his iron hard manhood and lifts it from his belly and strokes it over her slit until the tip is seated in the well of her womanhood. He moves his hands to her hips guides her down over his cock. In that moment his eyes close and his mind goes blank. She moves her hands to his chest, which brings him back to her.

"What do I do now, Sandor." He growls with hearing his name instead of my lord. It makes his cock twitch while he is inside her, which makes her hiss out her approval of the sensation. He grips her hips and lifts her and lowers her again along his shaft. After several strokes she finds her rhythm and takes over riding him, good and proper. Sandor's hands slide up and possess her breasts. His thumbs stroke over her hard nipples, and he can feel her cunt squeeze his cock in a most pleasant manner. He lets her control their pace as he watches her take ownership of him, take ownership of finding her own pleasure as she takes what she needs from him.

Sandor sits up so that he can lean Sansa back to reach her teats with his mouth. As he slides her back she whimpers. He worries, "Did I hurt you little bird?"

"No. You slipped in deeper. I quite like it. Will you touch me like you did before?"

He growls, "I would love to, my lady." His voice is so deep and hungry, that the platitude of her title almost sounds dirty, and it causes her to clinch around his manhood again. She feels a sudden rush of moisture where they are joined. He takes her left nipple in his mouth and moves his right hand to her pearl and strokes over the silky hardness at the top of her womanhood. He strokes her as she continues to ride him. Her fingers are threaded through his hair, holding him to her breast.

When he hears the high pitched keening that signals she is reaching her pleasure, he pulls away to watch her release. Her eyes are closed tightly and her lips are open and so inviting. He kisses her and demands, "Look at me." She does as she is bid and he watches her in the throws of her pleasure. He slows his thrusting while she comes back to herself. He lays back down and pulls her with him. His hands slide from her back to her hips and he lifts her up slightly and thrusts up into her. He speeds up just before he loses he rhythm and releases his seed into her, as he grunts out four final strokes. He rolls her over on her back and stays intimately connected with his wife. He grinds his hips against hers and kisses her until he slips out of her as he goes soft. He moves to lay next to her.

"Can you sleep now little bird?" He does not get a proper answer from her. She purrs like a happy cat and curls up against him and falls fast asleep. He kisses her temple and quickly joins her.

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Sandor and Sansa are awakened by a knock at their door, though the sun is not yet up. Sandor knows he should be away already. He pulls on his pants and opens the door. It is Marei checking on them. He asks her to order a bath and meal for Sansa, and help her dress. He will bathe in the White Sword bath house and check on the men traveling with them and their belonging. He throws on his tunic and grabs fresh clothes and small clothes and reluctantly starts his day.

Once all is ready he goes back to check on his wife. She is eating and looks radiant perched at their small dining table. He kisses the top of her head and sits down to break his fast with her. She looks at him and blushes. He can tell that last night flashes across her mind. He leans back in his chair and joins her in the revelry of the night she took charge of their bedding.

"Are you well rested my lord."

"Not at all, thanks to my wife. But it was worth the sacrifice, my lady. How was your night?"

"Quite satisfying. I slept like a fat cat. I could sleep as such the rest of my life, my lord." Sandor rises from his chair, half hard and with half a mind to bend her over the table. As he is about to lift her from her chair and take her again, there is a knock at the door. His eyes closes his eyes and drops his forehead to the crown of her head. "Who is there?" the little bird chirps.

"It's Marei my lady. I need to gather the last of your things." Sansa gives Sandor a sympathetic look and a gentle squeeze of his hand as she tells Marei to come in. The way The Hound looks at Marei makes her stop in her track. He sits at the table and Maery rushes through grabbing their clothing from yesterday and the last of their personal affects. "I will only be a moment. The head of the guard said they are will be ready and in the yard in half an hour, my lord." Marei grabs the last of their things and makes a quick leave.

Sandor gets up and bolts the door. He lifts Sansa from her seat and sits in it himself. He pull her into his lap and they finish their meal alternately feeding themselves and each other.

When they finally arrive in the courtyard to leave, the men and Marei are lined up for their inspection. At the edges of the line are Lady and Lord Stark, the former with red rimmed eyes, the latter looking bashful. Sansa squeals "Mother," and flies into her mother's waiting arms. Sandor approaches Lord Stark and each give a civil and proper 'fare thee well' to his good father. Sansa then approaches her father and hugs him dearly. Lord Hand Stark tries to hold himself together, but Sandor can see a single tear escape his eye and land on the crown of Sansa's head. He moves to great his good mother and reassures her that Sansa will always be safe and loved and treated with care. He invites his good mother to visit as soon as they settle and fully staff her former home. Adding she may stay as long as she wishes. Lady Stark gives him the second warm smile since they have met, and squeezes him in a hug.

Sandor leaves the Starks to their finally moments as he goes to retrieve his beast of a horse. Lord Hand Stark is helping Sansa and then Marei up on the horse drawn wagon. He steps back with Lady Stark and gives Sandor a wide birth as he approaches on his giant horse. He nods his respects and leads the procession out of the western gate, Sansa's parents waving behind them. As the gate closes he looks to his little bird and she is sitting stoically, but he can see her eyes watering and her ears and nose turning red. He knows from experience that a flood of tears is soon to follow. He pulls up next to the wagon. "Want to ride with me for a while?"

She looks at him, then Stranger, then him again. "Will he allow me near?"

"He will do as I command. What is your will little bird?"

"I should like to ride with you, if I may my lord."

He directs his attention to the driver on the wagon, "Hold on the wagon." He moves Stranger to he side of it and signals for Sansa to move toward him. He hugs her around the waist with his right arm and scoops her over to his lap. She settles into the front of his saddle and smiles up at him. Tears of her separation from her family dried and forgotten. Sandor's plan to distract her works to his own suffering. As she scoots around to get comfortable, or to look at the view, or turns to speak to him, he endures. He breaths deeply to calm his body, as he would when he was headed into battle. After an hour he needs a break. He told the men to water the horses and took his leave to the relieve himself, while Marei tended to Sansa's needs. When they reassemble, he suggests the little bird retake her perch on the wagon. She refuses, preferring to ride with him.

This time he can endure this sweet misery for two hours and calls for an early break for lunch. Then he leads the little bird and the big horse to a nearby bend in the river, shielded by a cluster of trees and tall grasses. Since his men know to give Stranger a wide birth when Sandor is not fully in control of him, he and his little bird will have some measure of privacy for lunch. He stands guard while she relieves herself. His relief requires her assistance, but he does tend to natures call and washes himself up thoroughly. He brings some provisions and his bedroll with him from Stranger for lunch.

They eat on the bedroll hidden under the bowed branches of a willow tree. Sansa asks about the rest of their travel plans for the day; happy to find out there is an inn stay at the end of their day. As she chirps on she notices that her husband is otherwise preoccupied. His eyes are transfixed on her breasts. She stops talking and he does not even seem to notice. She grabs a napkin and places it over her chest, blocking her view.

"Sorry, little bird. The way they rise and fall as you breath just-" He snatches the napkin away and hides it behind his back. Sansa lunges herself at him to retrieve her modesty cover. Despite his superior size and strength, Sandor goes over on his back, but lightening fast, grabs her, and takes her with him.

His intense gaze meets her surprised eyes. Their is a deep rumbling laugh barely contained is his chest. The next thing Sansa realizes is that she is now on he back

She looks into his eyes, and Sandor can see her heavily lidded eyes drift across his face. "I am still getting used to your missing scars. When I dream of you, it is frequently as you were." Her eyes and voice are laced with so much love and tenderness, then his heart clenches and his eyes glistened with unshed tears. His wife's butter soft and oh so warm hand touches his healed cheek, and his tears are unshed no more. He buries his face in her neck to hid his tears. She holds him there and strokes his hair. She can feel his hot breath on her breast, as his lips hover above her there. She arches her back up to marry her breast to his lips.

He comes back to himself and pulls his face away in shame. She wants nothing more than to let him know that no matter what face he wears, she loves it, loves him. If he is ever weak, she can be his strength. She slides his face back to hers and she unties her bodice for him. 'little bird' are the only other words they share. His lips descend upon the top of her breast. She reaches to the side to grab her skirts and inches them up. He reached down the other side to move her thrice damned skirts up and out of their way. Once they are around her waist, he unties her small clothes and strokes her to make sure she is wet and ready for him. One day he will stop being surprised at how she is always ready for him.

She smiles at him and reaches between them to untie his breeches and take himself in hand. She lines his manhood to her entrance and thrusts into her in one solid snap of his hips. As he takes her on the ground under a willow tree, they look deeply into each other's eyes. He bows his back to kiss her deeply. His hands slide under her hips to angle her so he can plunge more deeply into her silky depths. He moves his lips to the shell of her ear and whispers words of love to her, 'my little bird', 'I will always love you', 'You will want for nothing'... The only words from Sansa are 'My love' as her womanhood rhythmically clenches round him. Sandor holds on for a few more minutes. He savors enjoying his wife out in nature, despite a small household army not far from them. It was beyond any dream he could have imagined. He takes her teat into his mouth to muffle his cry of pleasure.

Once they right themselves as best they can and pack up their food and bedroll on Stranger, they walk back to the group, Sandor picks a stray leaf from her hair before they leave the cluster of trees that shielded them. They rejoin the men who are enjoying the long lunch on their first day of travel.

"Come on you nances", Sandor barks. "Let's get this party moving towards the Riverlands." Everyone packs up, washes up and gets back on their mounts. He insists that Sansa ride on the wagon. His appetite for her is sated for now, and he needs to make up for lost ground this afternoon. Shortly before sunset, they made it to an inn, and took up every room the place had to offer. He let them sort out who shared rooms, for he had his bedmate.

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He swore last night that they would get an early start. His traveling partying would be up and ready soon. However, the little bird is wrapped around him, as they both catch their breaths after loving each other for the second time this morning. He is hoping that they will get through the day without a burning need for each other. His full bladder finally pulls him away from the little bird. As he uses the privy he hears her open the door and order a bath for them.

When he has finished up, he returns to the room and the little bird has crawled back in bed and is laying on her stomach above the covers. The outline of her lovely arse covered only in a thin nightshift temps him. If he were not approaching is thirtieth name day, he would take her again, but he needs his energy to lead the men in their travels and to speed up their progress. Luckily, before his resolve can be tested, there is a knock at the door. He covers his wife's lovely arse with the bedding, then opens the door. He allows the tub and water to be brought into the room. Once they are gone, he pulls a sleepy little bird from her nest and deposits her in front of the privy door.

Once she emerges she takes off her nightshift and sinks into the hot water. She knows her husband is watching her from the bed, so she makes a mummer's show of it. Once she is done, she steps out soaking wet, and grabs a towel, but only dries her feet before slipping them in her slippers. She does not even bother to wrap the towel around her long lean body. She spreads it out across the bed and lays down with the towel with her feet dangling over the edge. She rests the back of her head on Sandor's abdomen and runs her fingers through the hair on his chest. He places his hand on her stomach and slides it up to her breast. He mindlessly stokes his thumb over her nipple as he tries to pull away from her to bathe while the water is still warm. Sansa brings his hand from her breast to her lips to kiss his palm and adds, "Go bathe. Before we have twenty men-of-arms knocking on our door to leave."

Being a well trained hound, he does as his lady bids. He laboriously removes himself from their bed and steps into the bath. He washes quickly and efficiently as he looks at his wife stretched over the edge of the bed as she air dries. Once he is clean he takes himself in hand to take the edge off from watching the little bird displayed on the bed so unintentionally invitingly. He releases in his hand while looking at her cunt. He steps out of the tub then washes his hand off in the lukewarm water. When he approaches, her he sees that she has dozed off again. He sinks to his knees before her. He puts his face close to her womanhood and inhales her deeply. He finds her scent, just under the soap. He is compelled to taste her.

The little bird giggles as she wakes from the tickle of his beard on the tinder skin of her thighs. "What are you doing my lord?"

"Breaking my fast on succulent little bird, with a glaze of lemon infused honey."

"My, are you not fancy."

"I had a maester too, my lady. I can be well versed." He licks up the length of her slip to her pearl and sucks on her there and hums the 'Bear and the Maiden Fair'. Her hands gripped onto his hair. He quickly brings her to her third release. With that he is pretty sure he can get through the day of riding without having to bend her over a felled tree.

Sandor decides for the remainder of the trip to ride at the front of the column of men, and keep his mind occupied on other things besides his lovely bride and her ginger minge. He requires her to ride in the wagon so she can rest and he can be comfortable in his pants, without his laces cutting into his cock. To make up for their days spent apart, then spend their nights intertwined as one; talking, planning, fucking.

Sandor is benefiting from his wife riding with Marei. She seems to be giving his little bird 'talks' similar to the one Ned gave him before the wedding. She is using new tricks on him that unman him. He will have to increase the wenches pay. She is more valuable then he first thought.

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Finally, after eight days of hard travel, the castle is in view. He removes Sansa from the wagon and places her on her own horse. She is the lady of this castle and she will enter as such. As they draw closer, Lord Clegane identifies himself and commands that the drawbridge be lowered and the gates opened for him and Land Tully-Stark-Clegane. As they pass over the threshold of the gate, the weight of his new responsibilities hits him. He has to not only protect and care for his wife, but all the people and lands of the Riverlands. He needs a moment to catch his breath as they proceed into the courtyard.

The men and Marei are settled into their new rooms. Stranger is washed, brushed and fed and housed like the prized war horse he is. The Lord and Lady have met with the heads of each department of the castle. Sandor sends a raven to his good father to let him know they have arrived safely, and all was well. Sansa and Marei unpack their belongings as Sandor inspects the defense of the castle and assigns his men to their new duties, to start after two days of rest.

When he finally makes his way to his wife's side again, the lord's suite looks like a home. She has placed his black and yellow banners around the room. "Did you make all these? He fingers the silks.

"Yes, we had a month's delay to wed and I was frequently too excited to sleep."

"Now that we are wedded and have arrived at our new home, how will you occupy yourself when you are too excited to sleep." He advances on her like a stalking shadow cat.

She grabs a book from her nightstand as a shield, "I am not sure. Read stories or fair maidens and concurring knights." He snatches the book from her and examines it. "No my lord, it's private."

"'Love Knots of Pleasure'? Where did you get this?"

"It was a wedding gift from Lady Margaery."

He thumbs through the pages and stops on one page in particular. He rubs his hand over the back of his neck, as he turns the book sideways. "Is this even possible?"

"Let me see which page." He hands the book back to her. Her face flushes to match her hair. "Hum, perhaps with practice."

"I am always up for training on a new skill." He goes to lock and bolt the door. For an extra measure he grabs a chair to wedges it under the knob. Lord and Lady Clegane did not make it to dinner that night.


	12. When the Guests are Fish, They Smell After One Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Tullys descend on the Cleganes, like a black mold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ending was a long time coming, but we have finally arrived. The epilogue has been written for 9 months, and I will post it shortly. I now need to edit it for changes in earlier chapters.

After a few fortnights of trial and error, the Cleganes eventually find a daily rhythm to their duties. Sansa takes care of the matters inside the castle and Sandor takes care of those involving the grounds, crofts and rivers. Three mornings a week they both sat in the Grand Hall to hear petitioners. Not a single tongue was ever cut out, despite the rumors that surround the Clegane name.

Sandor has taken over this week, as the little bird will not leave her warm nest of furs in the mornings. He has sent the maester to look in on her this morning, while he finishes up their morning duties. He finally returns to their rooms to find the little bird still dressed in her nightgown, but at least she has moved from the bed to the sun-filled window seat, having brought the furs with her.

"Little bird, what did the maester say? Why are you still undressed. Where is Marei?"

"He said I am perfectly fine and should be so for the next seven moons."

"Seven moons?"

"He said I may never sleep through the night again in seven moons - I am with child."

"With what? Child?" Sandor sits down heavy in the nearest chair. Did he hear that correctly?

"Yes. I think it was the willow tree. That day felt different."

"What?" his mind is two thousand leagues away.

"You know, the time under the tree. It was different than the times before."

"We had twenty men and a maid two hundred steps away. It was definitely different. Seven moons you say?"

"I'm going to write a note. You can send it to my parents by raven. I'll do it after a nape." They are both numb, Sansa by fatigue and Sandor by being in uncharted territory. He watches her paddle back to bed, trailing her furs like a security blanket. He decides to wash up and join her in bed and keep her company.

After ten minutes she is snoring lightly and his mind is racing, his heart is racing, his breath is coming in short. He feels the need to go and kill something, to shed the nervous energy.

Sandor kisses his sleeping wife on the forehead and dresses again to seek out the maester himself. He never expected to have children. Throughout his life he tuned out all the things related to them. His experience with children involved keeping people from killing Joffrey, and keeping Joffrey from killing Tommen's cats and stuffing the entrails into Mychella's dolls. By the time he finds the maester, he is inwardly near a full panic. Joffrey was evil because he was inbred. Why was Gregor a monster? How will Sandor comfort his wife, if he feels like his heart may explode?

The maester reassures him with facts and his examination of Sansa. The man's main concern is the possible size of the babe. He offsets that with Sansa being so tall herself, so should be able to handle a large babe during labor. He reassures Sandor that all their regular activities can be maintained. His wife will need to rest more, and eat more, and may request foods that seem odd to him, but to indulge her.

His mind still troubled, he does the unthinkable. He sends a raven with the news and asks Lady Stark to visit for as soon as she wishes, and for as long as she desires. He then heads to the kitchen to grab some of Sansa's favorite foods, and several rashers of bacon for himself. When he returns to the room she is just waking and smiles weakly at him.

"Are you not happy that we are having a child, Sandor?"

"I am happy Sansa. I'm just surprised and -. But this is good news. I sent the raven on and invited your mother to visit."

She smiles at him more brightly, then sees the food tray. "What did you bring me?"

"Lots of foods. What would you like?"

"Bacon." The wolf has awakened in his wife, but at the loss of his favorite bacon.

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Four moons later they are expecting Sansa's mother, with Arya, Bran, Rickon, her Aunt Lysa and cousin Robin. Ned had informed Sandor that he removed Lysa from the Vale and removed the name Arryn from her and her son. She betrayal of her husband with Littlefinger, and Baelish had fathered her son. Both of them causing the last Lord Arryn's death. As a favor to his wife Catelyn, to save her family name and her sister's tattered reputation, her bastard son was given the name of Tully, instead of Rivers or Stone. The Vale of Arryn is now in the hands of a green, but fertile lordling, Harrold Hardyng. If the boy would just get a lady wife with a get, instead of barmaids and whores, the related family line can continue.

Does Sandor's good father and mother expect him to let Lysa frolic free at Riverrun. Sandor had seen over the years that she was more and more unbalanced. They should have kept her in the capital, not around his delicate little bird. She is not used to dealing with a woman touched in the head, and a sickly, clinging boy. He blames himself, as he did invite his good mother to help with Sansa. He did not think she would bring a school of fish with her.

He wanted her family visit to make things easier on Sansa. However, the little bird frets over every detail. She inspects every room and moves the stored Tully banners to be displayed side by side with the Clegane and Stark banners. She also makes sure the chambermaids give each of the rooms special attention. She is already busy enough making clothing and bedding for their unborn child, when she is not wearing him out in bed. He is enjoying her carrying his child. Her teats are heavier, her arse is rounder, and her appetite for the marriage bed is insatiable. He has had to cut back on the training yard to save energy to feed her increasing cravings.

Later that week the locus descend upon them; he means the fish and wolves arrive. Only a few small folks are left who knew the Tully sisters when they lived at Riverrun. Both greyscale and the passage of time took a toll on the older castle staff from the days the fish ruled the Riverlands. He and Sansa are lined up, front and center, in the receiving line. He can sense that she is buzzing with the energy of a lightening storm as the traveling party arrives, surround by Stark and Vale guards. He moves forward to help everyone out of the wheelhouse. He can feel Sansa on his heels, without even looking around. She overtakes him, and bounds into the door he had just opened with a speed and agility he was not expecting from her increasingly burdened form. Just this morning he had to pull her out of bed, when she got stuck in an awkward position, helpless as a beetle turned upside down.

He gives them their time to squeal and coo over his little bird. Then all of a sudden the door flies open again and a mop-haired lad trips out and Sandor is the only thing that keeps him from eating the dust, as he grabs him by the tunic neck. "Get your filthy hand off my son, you brute." Sandor looks up and glares daggers into the haggard, dead fish Tully blue eyes.

Always one to follow a lady's orders, he releases the lad to the dirt from which he had saved him. He gives the lady his most sincere sneer and insincere bow. Another set of Tully blue eyes look upon him from the wheelhouse door. "My lord, would you please step in and tend to your wife. She is upset." His good mother steps out of the doorway to make room for him. She goes on to help her sister pick the boy up from the ground. He steps up and Sansa is surrounded by her sister and younger brothers. Her eyes are red rimed and her mouth is quivering.

"Little bird, what's wrong?" He sits down opposite her and takes her hands.

"I was greeting my cousin in a hug, and I felt his mouth on my-on me. When I pushed him away, he bit me."

He examines her visible skin and sees nothing. "Where?"

She looks sheepishly at her siblings. "I will be fine. It was just a bad surprise. Let's get everyone to their rooms. They are tired and hungry." With that his wife stands, steels her backbone and smoothes out her dress. She take Rickon's hand and Sandor grabs Bran, with Arya serving as the rear guard, her hand on the hilt of Needle, ready to spear a fish or two.

Sandor takes Bran with him to show the soldiers to their barracks, and to the see that the horses are properly tended. He allows Bran to visit with his old friend Stranger. He then brings Bran back to his family, once his blood had cooled. He has distracted himself from killing Sansa's little cousin and fish wife aunt. He cannot filet fish with his arms occupied with the broken wolf.

When he arrives in the family wing, the confusion he was hoping to avoid is buzzing about them. Sansa sees him and signals to him which room is Rickon's and Bran's. He sets Bran into a chair and musses his hair, so it looks more like Rickon's wild mane. He takes a deep breath and heads back into the fray. The hallway is miraculously clear, so he heads directly to his rooms. He finds Sansa there staring at the unlit fireplace.

"Do I need to kill anyone for your honor, wife?"

"No, mother explained that Sweetrobin is sickly. Aunt Lysa was still nursing him."

"So."

"Her milk stopped months ago from the stress of the mass deaths and Lord Baelish's execution. When he saw me, he thought I could nurse him."

"Let me see where he bit you. Did he break the skin?"

"I was about to check, but I could not reach the laces. I was just debating who to seek to untie my bodice and you walked in." She smiles at him reassuredly. He walks behind her and slides her hair out of the way. Hands now expert at removing his lady wife from her confines, he frees her and pushes the dress down her arms. He turns her to the light and examines her in a way he never has before, critically. There is a slight red mark above her left nipple, but the skin is hale and whole.

"I does not look like it will even bruise. Just slightly red. Shall I fetch the maester."

"No, as long as the skin is not broken, I will be fine."

He touches it lightly, "Does it hurt?"

"No." He bends down to kiss her there, not ungently.

"Let's get you decent again, and I will see to your family."

"I will do that. Just stay by my side."

"Always, little bird."  
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

After everyone has bathed, Lord and Lady Clegane have lunch with the little birds immediate family only. They all separate to rest before the impromptu welcoming feast. The Cleganes head back to the lord's rooms, and encounter Lady Lysa sitting on their solar.

"Aunt Lysa, is there something more you need?"

"Tullys have occupied Riverrun for over a thousand years. My son and I should rightfully have the lord's suite." Sansa looks at her, then Sandor. He steps in front of his wife, and shows who is the lord of this castle.

"You want my suite do you? Then send in your son to ask for it, good and proper. We can offer you more appropriate accommodations for your station. The dungeons are empty and you can have any windowless cell you want, Kinslayer.

"My wife was kind enough to offer your a proper guest room, because that is what you are, a guest. The choice is yours." He can feel Sansa grab onto his arm with both her shaking hands. His poor little bird.

"If your son requires a wet nurse, we can bring one from town. If he latches onto my wife's teat again, I will remove is teeth."

"Sansa, are you going to allow this dog to speak to me like this?"

"Aunt Lysa, I assume you want to keep your current room, instead of the windowless cell my lord husband offered. I will have an escort arranged for you." Sansa leaves Sandor to watch her, while she finds a household guard to escort her aunt to her room and keep her there under lock and key and sword. They will have to find a long-term solution later.

With Aunt Lysa tucked away for now, Sandor forces Sansa to rest before dinner. He sees to the feast preparations, per her detailed instructions. He will not allow her out of their now heavily guarded lord's suite. His tasks done and preparations well in progress, he returns to his still sleeping wife and joins her in bed. She does not wake, but moves closer to him seeking his heat, protection and love, even in sleep. He just watches her closely. Looking for any sign of distress. His large hand protectively on her swollen belly. His hand is met with one of the small movements she has told him about, but has never before felt. He checks and she does not wake. He just admires her, until he joins her in sleep.

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The Stark, Tully, Clegane family all reassemble in the Great Hall for the welcome dinner. Lysa's pinched face speaking to her irritation at not sitting the center seats of the high table with her Baelish bastard spawn. He has given the guards and kitchen staff instructions to not allow them access to the kitchen, or food and wine stores. Both he and Sansa keep watch on them looking for anything out of the ordinary. They both notice there is almost nothing normal about either of them. Aunt Lysa is as unlike her mother, as Sansa is unlike Arya. Lysa's eyes, cold and shifting, untrusting and untrustworthy. Sweetrobin, young beyond his years, but nothing sweet about him. No signs of the young man he should be. Sandor and Sansa are at a loss of what to do with him and his mother long-term.

In the short-term, Sansa allows her mother to play hostess to them as the days drag on and she grows more tired as the babe grows more heavy. The maester gives her oils that Sandor regularly applies to her overstretched skin. Silly man sometimes applies it to places it was not intended. Then they do things that bring a blush to her cheeks every time he gives her a sly half smile.

After two moons the household settled into a truce of trust. Sandor trusted his good mother to keep her loon of a sister out of his long hair; and they trusted him not to drop the loon off the highest tower to see if she could fly. All was quiet and still at Riverrun, until their master of horse informed them during dinner in the Great Hall that seven of the mares have been in season. Stranger, as the dominate stallion, has been much obliging to them while out to pasture. He expected a great foaling season.

Out of nowhere Lady Lysa Tully says for all to hear, "Your horse is no better than you, an oversexed beast."

He stands from his chair so fast that the chair falls over backwards. He raises to his full height. Sansa places her hand on his arm to calm him. He takes a deep breath then bites out between clinched teeth, "A married man can never be oversexed, if he honors his vows. My wife has no complaints." Sansa looks down and blushes. Her other hand protecting their unborn babe.

"Your wife has poor taste in men. Passed from an inbred prince, to his dog. You have turned her into a bitch in heat."

Lady Stark shouts out "Lysa, how dare you insult my daughter and good son."

With that Sansa stands, as gracefully as she can with her front heavy burden. "My lady, I was a maiden for my lord husband. My husband KNOWS this child is his and no other. And I have never used moon tea. You will apologize to my lord husband immediately."

"I will do no such thing."

"Please forgive me mother. Guards, escort Lady Lysa Tully to her rooms. Marei, after you finish your meal, please oversee the chambermaids in packing her things."

"This is my house. You cannot exile me back to King's Landing."

"Aunt Lysa, this is our house, by order of the king. I have no plans to send you back to King's Landing. We are sending you to the Fingers. Lord Robin will remain a ward here, until we feel he has matured enough to lord over the Fingers. You are now excused." Lysa does not move. "Guards take her to her rooms immediately. Take her plate and cup with you." She sits and goes back to eating her dinner with a new fervor.

Sandor picks up his chair and follows his lady's lead, and resumes his dinner and his conversation. "So when will the first mare fold?"

Everyone tried to act like a mad woman had not just lost the run of her mind. They finished the uncomfortable dinner. The Cleganes excuse themselves for the night, with Sansa promising to talk with her mother in the morning. She now knows how Sandor feels when his blood is up from the training yard. He is barely in the room when she pours herself on him. "Crazy Aunt Lysa was right about one thing."

"What? I am a beast."

"Only in the marriage bed. Her one truth is that I am your bitch in heat. My blood is up from the fight"

"Fuck me sideways."

"If that is a challenge, I accept.

"My pup has made you bold."

"Aye Clegane."

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In the morning Sansa talks with her mother. She explains that she and Sandor came up with the plan for her Aunt Lysa, if she got troublesome after their child was born. She could not have he husband shamed in front of his subjects, and do nothing. Since it was Sansa's family that did this, she did not want to put Sandor in the position of turning her aunt out of her own ancestral home. It was her place to pass the sentence and 'wield the sword'. It is as her father had always taught her. Her mother had to reconcile herself with Sansa's decision. Catelyn knew she would defend her own husband in the same way.

Lysa is sent out of Riverrun to the Fingers the next day. The Vale guards will escort her as far as Eyrie. Sandor sends some of his household guards to take her all the way to the Fingers. He will see that permanent guards, that can be trusted, are retained to keep her safe in the Fingers, and keep everyone safe from Lysa. His little bird will keep her cousin as a ward to ensure her aunt's cooperation. They will try to form him into a better person and a competent lord. She even hires another maester to further his education. For his mother kept him so close to her breast, literally and figuratively, that he is behind even little Rickon. Sandor assigns a household guard to train the boy on weapons. At the speed he learns, he will be twenty and seven before he masters the basic. Gods help the gods forsaken Fingers.

Sandor and Sansa realize that Lady Lysa is not competent to make a marriage match for Robin Tully, so they ask Sansa's mother to take on that task. Lady Catelyn passes that task onto her husband, who then assigns it to Sandor. Seven buggering hells is his first thought. He will make an enemy with this task, if he tries to better Robin's lot. He decides he needs someone who is looking to marry up.

Sandor has bonded with the rest of Sansa's family. Lord Tyrion sent a design for a harness, to add to the broken wolf's saddle. It will allow him to ride alone. He sends it to the saddle maker immediately for production in the finest leather and lamb's wool padding. He had commissioned a new crib from an expert carpenter for his son, or daughter. Sansa has him convinced it is a son. Her mother thinks it is a girl, due to the way it sits low in her hips. It will definitely be one or the other. He has the crib fashioned from fallen branches from weirwood trees, which makes it very pricey. He checks on the progress while he is in town. It's meaning and beauty almost makes him cry. He can only imagine what it will do to the little bird. She now cries hysterically over how good bacon tastes at every meal. He requests for it to be secretly delivered as soon as it is done.

Two weeks later he is supervising training for the household guards, and Arya and Rickon, when a maid runs out to him. The time that it takes for her to catch her breath, he could have been to town and back by now. "Speak woman, is it my wife?" The woman nods 'yes' while fanning her face to gain the air to work her tongue. "Is she in our rooms?" Again she nods, he runs off to the castle. Arya and Rickon trail behind him, far behind him. He gets to his door and the way is barred. Who the fuck locked his door. He knocks and calls out 'Sansa'. He hears foot steps and the bolt sliding up. The door opens a crack. He sees a Tully blue eye. "Lady Stark, may I please see my wife? Is she upset? The maid couldn't catch her breath to tell me.

"We are changing her?"

"Did she get sick on her clothes? I though that passed moons ago."

"Her water broke."

"Water? She dropped the water picture? I'll have one brought from another room. Did she cut herself? Could you open the door?"

"No. Her water for the baby." He looks at her confused and his irritation raising.

"If I can get to my wife, I can solve this problem."

"The water from Sansa's womb has spilled out." The Hound reaches to wrench the door open. Sandor Clegane takes a deep breath and looks into the same eyes his wife possesses. "Her labor has started."

"No, she has two weeks. I'll get the maester."

"He is here." She turns to say something and the maester shows up at the crack in the door.

"My lord, your lady wife is well. The first child is usually early or late. Given the size, early is preferable. We are just readying the birthing bed and the room for her and the little one. We will let you visit with her shortly." The man shuts the door in the giant lord's face. He simple stands there, staring at the door. Someone pulls on his tunic. He swings around. Nothing. He looks down, it is Rickon.

"Did they lock you out of your own room?"

"Yes, little lord. Could you and Arya go see the castellan? Ask him to have the new crib brought here."

They both run off. "No running with a sword on your hip, wolf girl." Arya slows to a fast walk, until she is out of his sight. Sandor goes back to staring at the seam in the door, waiting for is to show space and light and sounds from the other side. He is not sure how long he stood there before that thrice damned door. He couldn't hear a thing. At least the sounds from their room stay in their room. All of a sudden the door cracks open, and he does not wait for an invitation to slip into his own room. His little bird is walking in circles and stops when she sees him. She throws herself into his arms.

"My lord we are trying to get her to rest, for the day will be long and tax all her energy," the maester quietly informs.

"Little bird, why aren't you in bed?"

"I have too much to do. I still have a sennight's worth of sewing to do for our son. My mother insisted on making things for a girl."

Her mother tries to reason with her, "The first six moons they uses the exact same things. You used Robb's things. I only added a few dresses when you were older and being introduced to the banner men. Please get in bed Sansa."

"It's too early in the day to get back in bed. I have only been out of bed for two hours."

Sandor now sees why they let him into the room. He sits down by the fireplace and invites her to sit beside him. She takes his hand and walks past the second chair, and sits in his lap. He is fine with it, but it is something that his little bird would not ordinarily do in front of others. She curls up in his lap and tucks her head under his chin. After a few minutes she mumbles, "You are too hard."

The fuck she says, "I'm not at all," more for her mother's benefit than anyone else's. Her mother looks at them with a critical eye and grabs a pillow from their bed.

"Lift her up." He complies as if she weighs nothing. Her mother tucks the pillow between his hard lap and Sansa's soft bottom. He lowers her back down, and she folds herself back into him. After a few minutes she falls asleep. His arm is resting across her bell. Every few minutes he feels it tighten like the skin on a war drum. She moans in her sleep, and he just holds her tighter. Half an hour later she wakes up whimpering. Her forehead is sweating. He asks for a rag and her mother comes over and wipes her forehead and neck with a cool wet rag. "You should move her to the bed now. If you could step out after that. The maester needs to check her. I promise. we will get you when he is done, son." No one has called him son since his father was killed hunting with Gregor.

He does as he is bid. The new crib is sitting in the hallway to greet him, as are his good sister and now both good brothers. "Hound, how is Sansa?" Arya inquires. 

"She is resting fairly well, wolf girl. I was kicked out for the maester to examine her."

"Am I going to be an uncle Sandor? I'm too young to be an uncle," Rickon asks.

"You both will and Arya will be an aunt."

"I hope the babe gets her soon, I'm hungry," Rickon laments.

"Arya, could you take your brothers to the kitchen and see that they eat? Have them send a plate for your mother."

"Sure. Come on Rickon. Help me push Bran."

Bran turns to Sandor, "Don't worry brother. It will all be fine. You will have a daughter by sunset." He says it with such surety, that Sandor gets a shiver down his spine. The small group heads off to the kitchen. A few minutes later the door opens and Sansa is calling to him. He comes in and sits by her side.

"How do you feel little bird."

"Like Stranger stampeded over me." He takes her warm hand and brings it to his lip.

"Are you too warm?"

"No, I am as well as can be given, the-" Her words are cut off by a painful contraction of her abdomen. She grabs his over sized hand and squeezes for dear life.

"My lord, Lady Clegane is progressing nicely. The babe is not too large, since it is a bit early. It has moved lower, into the birthing position. She should be ready to deliver in a few hours. If you want to go back to the training yard, we can keep you updated."

"I will be by her side."

Catelyn turns to him, "Son, it is not proper, but I will support whatever makes Sansa most comfortable."

"Little bird, what is your wish?

"Please stay."

"As you wish." He sits by her side and talks to her about the horses and the dogs. She can have her pick of the litter. He will train it for her. He will find a small pony for they babe and they can grow together." Her mother steps out to eat and check on her other children, as Sansa is well cared for by the maester and her husband.

Seven hours later Sansa was throwing everyone out, including her beloved husband. Then she panics when they leave. Sandor had already figured to sit out of the way when she blessed him to all the seven hells, or threatened to unman him with a dagger. Her mother was kind enough to step out so Sansa could vent her pain fully and not shame her lord husband. His good mother had already warned him if he stays, Sansa would verbally and physically attack. What actually hurts him was her seeming unending pain. He'll never touch her again. He can love her from afar.

Her beautiful hair is plastered to her forehead. Sometimes she lets them wipe her brow, sometimes she hisses at being touch. This is the only way in which his little bird reminds him of Cersei. The lioness suffered heavily, and as her sworn shield he witnessed that. Lost in that somber place in the past, the room suddenly buzzes with a soul wrenching cry that broke his soul. He has to reach down to reserves he did not know he had to give her his strength. "I feel the need to push." The maester will check her without asking Sandor to leave.

"My lord, would you sit behind her and sit her up against your chest." He moves without hesitation, a lifetime as a soldier following a generals orders. He lifts her to him, as if she were the most delicate bird made of glass. His left hand instinctively goes to her belly, his other hand takes her right hand. He whispers in her ear how much he loves her, he would take her pain for if he could. He kisses her temple. The maester goes under her shift, and Sandor wants to behead him. Mayhaps this is why men do not stay in the birthing room. Then the maester says, "The child is in the final birthing position. You will soon be parents. Lady Clegane, bend your knees and plant your feet into the mattress. You are ready to push. Lord Clegane remind her to breathe, deep breath in before she pushes with the next contraction, and shallow breaths through the mouth when she is resting."

Sandor can feel her stomach constrict, he whispers 'deep breath in little bird', the maester tells her to push with all her strength. She does until her strength is gone and her belly relaxes. Sandor whispers in her ears, 'well done little bird', 'quick breaths little bird', 'I love you wife'.

The next contraction seems to produce some results. Sandor can see the bulge in her stomach move down. She rests again. The maester says, "The top of the head is out. Only a few more pushes." Sandor is feeling lightheaded. Gods give him strength. Fuck that, give her strength. Two more big pushes, and a new world opens up in that moment, their lives are forever changed. Sandor lost several seconds of time. He is brought back to the room by cries and sobs. The cries are ear piercing, the sobs are happy and tired and his little bird's. A midwife finished up with the afterbirth and cleans Sansa, while the maester takes the screaming newborn to a pad on the table and cleans it. Sandor holds Sansa up to help them change the bedding and her gown.

"Lord and Lady Clegane you have a daughter. She is fat and pink as a piglet and strong of lungs, as everyone in the castle can hear. I just need to examine her. She is long and almost two thirds of a stone. Ten fingers and toes. What little hair she has is black, but I have seen many babes with black hair turn blond. Her eyes are still shut, so the color is unknown, but that changes too."

"Give me my daughter. Where is my mother?"

"I just need to oil her skin and swaddle her. I shall find your mother and have the maid restart a fire. We need to keep the little one warm. She will want to feed in the next hour or so." He walks to the bed and presents the baby to Lady Sansa Clegane. The maester leaves the room, along with the other helpers. Sansa is in quiet awe. What little of her daughter is showing is beautiful.

"She looks like you little bird. We need a name, now that we've met her."

"Willow."

"Willow?"

"She was conceived under a willow tree in the Crownlands."

"Willow it is, little bird. What will we tell people about the origin of the name?"

"Oh, hum. I shall think on it later.

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Bran giggles about the name Willow, and her mother averts her eyes back to the babe she has wrestled way from Sansa. Sansa realizes she will need a story to accompany the name, or people will make up their own. Arya is clueless as to the issues buzzing about, sweet summer child. Bran is wise beyond his tender years. "On the way here we had lunch under a willow tree, and I was carrying Willow then. It was such a peaceful place, that I wanted to instill that serenity and permanence in her." Conceiving is carrying. Not exactly a lie.

Lady Catelyn is willing to accept this story for her own modesty, but she does know better. She purges the thought out of her head. "Willow Tully Clegane is beautiful. She is on the larger side. Larger than all of mine at birth." She hands Willow to her father, who reluctantly accepts the wee one. Catelyn shows her good son how to hold her properly, and how not to hold her, unless he wants to try to feed her. Good luck on that. Sandor quickly passes the babe to Arya; while Bran and Rickon look on at their niece. Suddenly, there is a squirting and ripping sound and a smell that everyone denies is them. The look on Arya face indicates who the offender is.

Catelyn steps up into the service of her daughter and relieves Arya of the loaded babe. "The first swaddling cloth is always the worst. That is why the maesters or midwives put oil on their lower half. It is sticky and messy and hard to clean otherwise. Sandor follows her over as his good mother unbundles the babe. She is long and cubby as he gets a good look for the first time, now that the room is warm enough to unswaddle her. He is greeted with the full force of a smell that must originate from the seventh circle of the seven hells. Yet, she has not even eaten yet. What kind of damned magic is this? He has been knees deep in blood and guts and filth, but this horror is unimaginable from such a sweet little thing. He backs away from the table and uses the time to grab the crib to surprise his wife, and get some fresh air.

He gives it a few minutes for the disaster he saw to be resolved, then he carries the crib in. Sansa is in tears as soon as she sees the weirwood carved crib. Her mother had added the bedding and furs she had prepared the week before. Despite loving the crib, Sansa holds onto the now clean bundle and marvels at her crib. As the baby gets fussy, Catelyn sends her other children out with Sandor, and talks Sansa through feeding her daughter. Catelyn finally leaves the new family to their own devices. The babe burps like a happy drunk, then falls asleep with a full belly. Sandor forces Sansa to give him their daughter so she can sleep. After marveling at how he played a part in such a beautiful creature, he eventually puts Willow in the crib. He undresses and washes up, then he climbs in bed with his wife. Where does he put his hand now that his babe is on this side of the world? He falls asleep holding Sansa's hand.

A fortnight after Willow is born and Sansa is moving around unimpeded, the Starks head back to the capital. Sandor has taken over the morning petitions, since their beautiful black of hair and Tully blue of eyes daughter requires frequent feedings. The name 'little piglet' sticks, but only when they are in the solitude of the lord's suite. Sandor now sees more of Sansa's teats than ever, but the view is blocked by Willow's head.


	13. Epiloge: A Lasting Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An attacking hoard invades the Riverlands. A name day feast at Riverrun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, finally a complete multi-chapter SanSan fan fiction under my belt. GODS it was hard, but I learned a lot. I am defiantly a better editor.
> 
> I complete every part of the promote. Loved and hated every minute of it.

Ravens come in from all across the Riverlands. Towns and villages were being besieged. Livestock was being slaughter in the night. It was a mystery at first, but soon it because clear with the first sitting that an unusually large pack of wolves killing the livestock. A small pack of six to eight is typical, and can be handled by the locals and scared back into the wilderness. A large hunting pack of twenty plus requires organized, trained men. Lord Clegane has put together a hunting party to kill off the offending wolves.

Once a plans and route are drafted based in the various messages, The Hound and his men set out to cull the wolf pack. The pack was easy enough to find, for it hunted down Sandor's group first. His group is surrounded in a clearing from a distance The distant circle is closing in on them. He orders the men to dismount and stand circled before the horses, for it is the horses the wolves want. Swords, spears and arrows at the ready. They will not get Stranger, nor any of Stranger's progeny. Three of them rode with them. To get to the horses, the wolves must go through the men, through him. If he goes down, his wife will raise him from the dead to kill him again, just to raise him again.

The first glint of glowing amber eyes show, and a soul shacking howl is emitted. Some of the horses become jittery, and Stranger and his offspring stamp their hooves, ready to due battle. They will survive this, Sandor can feel his home calling him back, his wife's willing arms open to him, and his daughter's unending love and admiration welcoming him home.

As the wolves break through the tree line into the clearing, Sandor can see two giants leading the pack. There are no direwolves south of the wall, and now there are two. He gets a better look as they approach, just outside of the archers' range. He has everyone hold their position as he steps closer. The two direwolves match his forward march. Sandor thinks they are female. Might be, could be, Stark direwolves?

"Lady! Nymeria!" he barks out. The wolves both raise their heads and sniff the air. "Everyone hold!" he orders to those behind him, without turning away from the giant wolves. The pair lay down on the ground and watch him intently. He slowly approaches them and stops. As he gets closer, they roll over and expose their bellies to him. He can see that they are definitely females. He extends a hand just out of the reach of their massive heads. Leaving himself enough room to draw his sword, if they turn on him. Could they even remember him? Will they remember the Stark sisters. They sniff and lick at his extended hand, an offer of peace. He can hear the murmur of his men behind him. He says their names again and one reaches out a massive paw to his hand. He takes the leap of faith and moves the final step to them, and touches both of them on their heads. The other wolves move forward. Lady and Nymeria sit up and turn to them yipping orders. Several of the wolves move forward slowly; most of them turn and run off in various directions. He is not sure what is happening. He says to his men that the two direwolves belonged to his wife and good sister. He will try to lead them back with them to Riverrun.

Sandor stands and wonders if he has miscalculated these Stark wolves. Will the other wolves attack? Should he try to separate these unknown wolves out? What if they attack and he has to kill one, or five? If he has to kill Lady or Nymeria, his wife will somehow know. She seems to know everything about him, even before he knows it about himself. He orders a stay to the direwolves. Would Sansa and her wild sister ever have trained them to obey? He backs away from them to rejoin his men. He explains his problem to the men, but they had already noticed the standoff. The general consensus is to head toward Riverrun. If they follow without attacking, proceed. If they attack, defend and defeat and try to save the direwolves. As they lead the route to Riverrun, half of the dozen or so remaining wolves following them peel off and head north.

By the time they make it to Riverrun, all are exhausted. The horses were watered along the way, but not well rested with the tense truce that existed with the wolves. They only allow the direwovles over the drawbridge before it is pulled up. The others stay in the forest surrounding the castle. The men take the stressed horses away to the stables, instead of waiting for the stable boys. Sandor has to hand Stranger off to one of his men, since the two direwolves will follow him. He sends someone to get his wife and someone else to see the butcher for some raw meat for pair. He leads them to a water trough.

When Sansa arrives out of the castle, she sees him first and is about to approach, but stops dead in her tracks. She goes back to the castle door to close it, in case Willow follows her out to see her dada. She approaches again, "My lord husband, what have you done? What is this?"

"One of them is named Nymeria and one is named Lady. You will have to figure out which is which." He can see she is crying. Poor little bird.

"Lady to me!" Both wolves walk towards her.

"See my problem."

"We shall, figure it out later. Can we keep them in the castle."

"Absolutely not. They could eat Willow in two bites."

"Not my Lady. Willow's juicy thighs are mine." She pets them both on the head. Fingers lost in thick fur.

"Well, when you figure out which one is you perfectly behaved Lady let me know. Until then, she and the wolf girl's wolf sleep in the kennels. Five more regular wolves followed them here. We left them on the other side of the mote. We'll feed them once a day to keep them from hunting village livestock and loved one.

Sansa leads them toward the butchering room, but one man from Sandor's traveling party has already been there and drops a side of lamb for the two. Sansa would rather not watch this part, as her stomach has been unreliable lately. She retreats inside to send a raven to the capital to let he sister and parents know that Sandor has found Lady and Nymeria, two years after they went missing. Sandor heads off to tend to Stranger, but keeps the kennel master on guard over the wolves, along with several soldiers with crossbows. Sansa needs not know these details. Once Stranger is cleaned and brushed and watered and fed and soothed, Sandor heads to the bathhouse. It would take forever for enough water to be prepared and brought to his room.

Once he is finished he seeks out his wife in their room. He finds a wet floor and his wife and Willow brushing the freshly washed wolves by the fire. "I had them washed in the kennel to get the lamb's blood off."

"Why are they in our bedroom? Is that my brush little bird?"

"Oh, sorry. Use my brush. I will pick up a new one for you." He picks up Sansa's too small, too fancy brush, to brush out is own wet hair. "We dried them by the fire. This one is Nymeria. I figured it out."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Lady and I have a special connection. Like you and Stranger. Would you not know him anywhere?"

"He's easy to spot. Look for the body parts near him. Wills, it's past your bedtime. Your ma owes me a proper hero's welcome. Let's get you to your septa."

"Dada no. I sleep with you and mama and Lady and Neara." Her bottom lip pokes out like her mother's when she wants her way. He is immune to that trick.

"Any of my men defy me like this, they get cuffed in the back of the head."

"You are the one who spoils her. The Hound? Hah! You are a whipped puppy with her." He gives Sansa his most intimidating looks. She bursts into laughter. He gives up and takes his little Willow to her room, to be put to bed by her septa. The entire way there she is making her arguments to sleep with her parents.

When he finally gets back, after telling Wills a story, or three about his journeys, he returns to his room and continues their conversation. "So I don't frighten you anymore?"

"Holding Willow like that, you are hardly convincing. Only when I reach for your bacon am I ever frightened. That is why we only have butter knives when we break our fasts."

"I wondered about that. I'll take these beasts to the kennels. They may try to kill me if they see what hounds do to wolves. I'm glad we decided to wait on the pick of the litter until our pup was older. Now that we have these massive beasts to tend to, it would be too much.

"We have to get Nymeria back to Arya."

"She can come pick her up, or she can wait until we go there."

"When is that?"

"Four moons for the King's golden name day. My participation was demanded for the Tourney of the King."

"Willow has never been to the capital. I will make her a few new dresses. How long will we stay?

"A fortnight is long enough for me, what say you?"

"A moon's phase. I will need the rest."

"We'll, get plenty of rest when we get back home, little bird."

"The rest is for the babe, not me."

"Wills sleeps anywhere."

"Not her, the new babe, dada Hound. I have to rest for him or her, but I am sure this time it is a him."

"The fuck you say little bird?"

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Seven Years Later**

The men that serve with Sandor started calling him Lord WolfHound, after his domestication of the wolves. He started mating the wolves with the black dogs for which the Cleganes are know. The dogs are named wolfhounds. He found that one quarter wolf worked best for most purposes. The half wolfdog mix worked best in the north. They were tolerated by the horses, but in harsh winters you could let them run free. They hunt wild game when left on their own; yet, they are trained to say away from livestock. If anything unsavory comes from north of the Wall, it is met with an overwhelming force of trained wolfdogs.

Sandor has a full house at Riverrun. His entire good family is here for Sansa's five and twentieth name day and the Clegane wedding anniversary. She is heavy with their fourth child and Sandor does not allow her to work in preparation for the feast. Arya, Jeyne and Shireen help plan and oversee the festivities; Catelyn and Ned keep their brood of grandchildren occupied, or is it a den or a litter of grandchildren.

They entertain all their children with sparing matches between Sandor, Robb, and Rickon and some of the Riverrun and Stark guards. Ned catches Sandor in his solar while the children are napping. "Sandor, I owe you an apology."

"For what?

"I prayed to the old gods that you would have all girls, and now you have three."

"They are my joy. It is a blessing. Any boys come sniffing around my girls, I'll kill them."

"I once thought the same thing about you, but it turned out well. The girls are even more beautiful than Sansa was as a child, and she was the most beautiful and well tempered babe anyone had ever seen."

"Well, they get that from the Stark side. I just made them taller." With that the door bursts open. The Clegane girls come running in with Sansa lumbering in a distant last, with the youngest on her hip. She sets the babe down and she toddles over to her dada. Sansa turns and walks away to take a nap, while the rest of the house is quiet. She knows her father and husband will keep them safe and away from the sleeping children, still recovering from their travels. The two youngest are in various stages of crawling up dada, where he is seated. Willow walks up to her grandda with a well thought out plan.

"Mother says the babe is due any day."

"Why, yes. I would hope so. Your mother looks like she may tip forward, or backwards." Ned agrees.

"You should take her with you after she is born. We have enough girls."

"It could be a boy."

"It's never a boy. Please, Grandfather."

"Your lord mother and father will miss the babe if we take it, and you will not get to know it."

"You can update us with ravens." She looks up at her father to see if he is angry with her. He is smirking and shaking his head as his youngest is standing in his lap yanking on his hair with both hands. The middle girl, Arya, has attached herself to his neck and is draped over the back of the chair like a cape.

"Ned, I guess you can see that they got Sansa's looks, but not her temperament."

"Is Sansa always so uncomfortable?"

"No, she's never gotten this large. The maester doesn't think she's carrying twins, but we will know in a couple of weeks."

"A couple of weeks. That's too long son. You remember that lesson I shared with you long ago?"

"Aye." He peels Arya's little hands out of the chokehold around his neck and chest and stands. He passes the smallest girl to the biggest, and extracts his hair from her fists. "Keep them busy for an hour."

"That long!"

"There abouts. Duty calls."

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At the feast Sansa eats very little. She already feels like she could explode, without adding a full stomach to her list of pains. She needs to make water every half an hour, which to torture enough. She has never been so uncomfortable in all her life. Sandor has to pull her up in bed, and even help her roll over during the night. She cannot even wear proper slippers. She has to wear bedroom slippers. How uncouth, yet she is too swollen to care. Even her nose has swollen, which has never happened before. The only good things are she is in the last weeks, and Sandor massages her legs and feet several times a day.

Her entire family had not been together since Bran and Shireen married at the end of winter several years ago. Her family is just now meeting her youngest daughter, who looks most like Sandor. She is black of hair, gray of eye and full of determination. She has to be put to sleep with her bedding on the floor, because in the middle of the night she climbs out of every contraption they put her in to sleep. She has her dada's old bedroll, with lots of linens and furs.

Why is Sansa lying to herself? They go through the formality of putting the babe to sleep in her room, but she sleeps with them every night, once she escapes. They simple make her work for it to slightly entertain themselves. They do not even latch the door anymore, so she can let herself in and crawl in their bed without waking them. Sansa had gotten used to sleeping with a knee in her neck and a small hand across her eye.

She, and all the other Stark babies, are being beyond spoiled by her husband, her siblings and their spouses, and especially her parents. Half of the time Sandor has Arya's babe and Gendry has Sansa's. One day she actually took the wrong baby from Sandor to put to bed, it was not until he said, 'Little bird, that's not our pup,' that she realize her mistake and swapped babes with Gendry. She had to laugh at herself and learned to pay more attention, as they do favor, except for eye color. She also laughed at realizing that her Lyanna was the same size as Arya's Lyanna, but she was four moons younger than Arya's.

At the feast the two babes are passed back and forth among the family. One of them is currently in Sansa lap, she is not even paying attention as to which one. Then she can feel that the babe has made water on her. She tells Sandor and he takes what turns out to actually be his daughter from her and informs Sansa the girl is dry. "But that is impossible my dress is wet." Sandor hands the babe to Ned, and takes Sansa by the hand to help her up. Her other hand grips her swollen belly and she doubles over in pain as a flood of water puddles around her feet. Lady Catelyn is at her daughter's side in two seconds demanding the maester be bought to Sansa's room. Sandor lifts her and carries her to their room with all the Starks following behind him, but not keeping up because of all the children in tow.

Catelyn sends everyone away to tend to the children and finish their meals. She and the chambermaids prepare the birthing bed and put Sansa into an older sleeping gown. Sandor holds her and rocks her while they wait for the maester to come and examine her. After she is examined, Sandor gets her out of bed and helps her pace to ease her cramped muscles. In less than an hour she is back in bed, and the maester determines she is ready to push.

Sandor sits behind her helping her sit up, giving her both hands to hold; whispering words of encouragement, as he always does. She closes her eyes and rests against him between contractions. Finally, with a particularly painful contraction, she gives one last push, probably the last one she has in her, and the shoulders are finally free, and she feels the babe slip out. Sansa is bright red from head to toe from the effort. Catelyn leaves her side and follows the new babe, as it is handed off to a younger maester and the long-time Riverrun maester tends to Sansa. Once he hears his daughter cry for the first time, Sandor steps out to give Sansa some privacy as they clean her. As soon as he enters the hallway ever Stark descends on him.

"They are both fine. She is huge and has very strong lungs. We can all get a quick visit with them shortly, and then everyone should get some rest. We have an early morning hunt on the morrow." After half an hour of questions and answers, the maester opens the door to leave and is met with a wall of Starks and a wall of Clegane. "They are both doing well. The babe is the size of one of two moons. It is the largest I have ever delivered. I am directing our lady to take an extra week of bedrest. She will be quite sore on the morrow, and her skin will be red for a week. She broke a lot of blood vessels." With that he leaves. The family pours in behind Sandor. They all head for the babe, but he heads straight for his tired wife and kneels at the head of the bed to kiss her forehead.

"The maester says you are to get an extra week of bedrest. I will be standing guard, as I know I cannot trust you."

"If the insult were not true and I were not so tired, I would punish you."

"What name should we choose? It is your name day so you get an extra voice. I only ask that it not be Jonquil."

"Well, I have already picked a name; Sandor Galladon Clegane, second of HIS name."

"We cannot saddle a girl with my name, and no one but you knows my second name. What do you by mean 'HIS' little bird?"

"What are you on about Sandor. We have a son." Everyone turns and faces them. They are all silent for a moment then examine the sleeping babe.

Catelyn hands the babe to Ned and chimes in, "I thought you knew before you walked out." Everyone starts talking at once, 'That explains why he is so big', 'He is too pretty to be a boy.' 'They do make the most beautiful babes.' With all the talk Catelyn chimes in loudly, "Let us all leave them be. It has been an exciting day, a double name day and a wedding anniversary." With that, Ned hands his grandson to Sandor, so the man can get his first proper look at his first son. Once everyone is gone, Sansa unswaddles their son and shows off the outfit Sandor gifted her many years ago for their wedding.

"It was not meant for a newborn, but it fits him perfectly. He will certainly have the Clegane stature."

"Aye, he feels almost as heavy as our youngest is now...We have a son, little bird." Sandor shakes his head. He just assumed it was another girl. He hand the sleeping giant to Sansa. "Are you sure you want to name him after me."

"If not after you, then Florian."

"Fu--" she puts a hand over his mouth.

"Sandor Galladon Clegane, first of his name, you will not curse in front of our son."

"Gods, don't use my full name. What was my mother thinking giving me this second name?"

"That you would be the perfect non-knight."

"Let's get some rest little bird. He will be awake soon to nurse. Are you hungry, you barely ate tonight."

"Too tired, but his size explains why I had no room for food. He probably arrived tonight because he could smell all the food at the feast that I could not eat. We may need a wet nurse to help with feedings."

"I think he arrived tonight because I fucked you good and proper for the first time for two moon. It will have to last me for the next two moons."

"It was rather relaxing. Thank you, and stop cursing. If his first word is bugger, I will bugger you with a hot poker."

"I swear on my honor Willow said booger, not bugger; and it was her fifth word. But don't thank me so fast. It was your father's idea to- you know."

"Seven hells. Do not tell me anymore."

"No cursing in front of our son little bird."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sansa gave House Clegane another son after Sandor the II, also not named Florian. The Cleganes honor Catelyn's family by naming him Hoster Edmure Tully Clegane. Sandor, Lord Paramount of the Trident, declares Sansa and Sandor II's shared name day and their anniversary as a week long annual feast called River Fest. Livestock and crops are bought and sold, tourneys are waged and won, wares and traded and sold. Every few years their extended family meets at Riverrun, since it is central to the family, which is dispersed in various houses across Westeros.

Robb takes over Winterfell after Ned decided to remain in King's Landing as King Robert's Hand of the King. Ned kept the rest of his family there with him. Robb married Jeyne Westerling from the Westerlands. Ned would have preferred a northern girl for his son, especially since the Starks already had a Westerlands alliance through Clegane. King Robert insisted that they pair strong houses with once great houses to stabilize the Seven Kingdoms. Robb and Jeyne had three boys and tow girl, just like his parents.

Ned allows Arya to wed the legitimized Gendry Baratheon. They were much in each other's company during lessons with the maesters. Gendry was rough edged enough to suit his wild wolf daughter. Robert made Gendry heir to Storm's End, as Edric Storm was lost during the end of the greyscale plague. Gendry's status was now high enough to earn Ned's commitment. They had two sons and one daughter. She is the smaller, older twin to Sansa's daughter. Both girls were black of hair. Sansa's Lyanna had Clegane gray eye, while Arya's Lyanna had Baratheon blue eyes. They both had the face of angels, which hid their devilish merriments. They both were the apples of their father's eyes. Sansa calls them a pair of crab apples anytime they get together.

Bran was to be the Stark to stay on at Winterfell when Robb left on various campaigns. However, once Ned trusted the mad maester Qyburn enough, he allowed him to examine Bran. He was able to regain some feeling in his legs; and he could stand when supported by braces. He never walked again, but he did often fly. More on that later. Bran and Shireen met when Shireen was sent to the Capital with Ser Davos to have her face repaired by Qyburn. Since she and Bran received special attention in the infirmary, they became fast friends. To appease the King's brother, Lord Stannis, who had no male heirs, Lord Hand Eddard Stark allows Bran and Shireen to be married. Bran will now be the Stark at Dragonstone.

Little Rickon is matched with Lyanna Mormont. Ned finally got his Northern house match, despite the girl being more than two name days older than Rickon. The wedding will take place in Winterfell's godswood, when Ned feels his wild boy is ready. They leave him at Riverrun after the River Fest for Sandor to foster him, and channel his raw aggression into a controlled strength, as Rickon will become Lord of Bear Island.

Poor little Sweetrobin, without his mother to smother him, he suffers so - for three days. Then he is assigned various tasks in the castles, as part of his training as a lord. It was discovered that he had a gift for counting things. They have him do the inventory of the stores and armory, with strict supervision of course. Sandor switches his weapons training to war strategies training. He is much less disastrous at this, and no longer in danger of putting his own eye out. The boy showed no real interest in girls, but Sandor had a duty. Robin did find comfort in the motherly kitchen cooks. He hung around them and was given extra sweets. He always gravitated to motherly women. That gave Sandor the idea of Lady Tanda Stokeworth's daughter Lollys. She is considerably older than Robin, and motherly, since she had a bastard with an unknown sire. She claims it happened during a bread riot when Myrcella left for Dorne by boat. Since none of that ever happened, they attribute her story to her being a little touched in the head. Neither have any interest in the marriage bed, so they can enjoy an innocent, but companionable marriage. Lady Lysa deteriorated to a state that she only talks to Petyr, yet Petyr was dead, and has no head.

The last Targaryen, Daenerys, arrives on the continent with three dragons, including Balarian the Black Dread reborn in the form of Drogon. King Robert has no choice but to bend the knee. He is in declining heath, and he will not give up the lasting peace he has create. This peace and all his children will be his lasting legacy.

When the Dragon Queen takes over the Capital, Ned confesses the truth of Jon's birth, and the raising of his nephew as his son. She did not punish Ned, as he did not kill any of her family. Ser Barristan Selmy confirms to Dany her eldest brother stealing away with Ned's sister, and her father's torture killings of Ned's father and older brother. Ned had only fought to free his sister, who ended up dying in a bed of blood before his eyes. Her last words being a request for Jon's care and protection. Catelyn, however, was a little less quick to forgive Ned. Her husband had held this secret from her for almost the entirety of their marriage. In time she forgave herself for hating an orphaned nephew, and let herself finally love him for the decent, stoic man that he grew to be.

Jon had become Lord Commander of the Night's Watch until the Wall came down. The Dragon Queen had taken over Westeros by then, as she had the former Slaver's Bay. Upon meeting Jon Snow all three dragons submitted to him and together he and Dany defeated the Others, with Jon riding Rhaegal. The dragons accepting him confirmed his birthright to the Queen. Family can feel family, blood knows blood. While Jon is still a bastard by birth, he is also the sole living heir of the last Targaryen crown prince. Since Dany is barren, she names Jon her heir to the Iron Throne. His last name is change to Targaryen, once the Queen legitimizes him.

Dany imprisons Robert the Usurper, and plans to execute him after a 'fair and impartial trial'; but the Usurper was found dead in his golden cage in Maegor's Holdfast. Varys was the last person to see him alive. Margaery Baratheon and her two daughters are exiled to The Reach. She remarries one of her husband's former kingsguards and oddly enough her two daughters grew into the spiting image of her second husband. Ned learned to keep his mouth shut, since the Lannister affair. Dany did notice the similarity in looks and Ned could not, nor would not confirm nor deny the parentage question.

Ned passed the Hand position to Lord Tyrion with the Queen's blessing. Ned and Catelyn retired to Riverrun after leaving the capital. It was easier for their children to travel there to see them periodically, and the weather was better on their aging bones. Sandor and Ned became good friends and Ned frequently advised Sandor and took audience with his town's people to allow Sandor more time with training his men and his wolfdogs, and his growing brood.

Lord Sandor Clegane of Riverrun was called the capital to bend the knee and answer for his brother's crimes, since Gregor refused to answer the Queen's call. Sansa insists on coming and bringing their entire litter of pups, when Sandor wants to face the Queen alone. Dany fell in love with all of the little Cleganes. They each reminded her of dreams she had of her lost son Rhaego. Though it was Sandor II, who stole her heart. They agreed that when he is older, Adon, as he is called to differentiate his name from his father's, and accommodate Sandor's refusal to use Galladon, will be a ward of the crown. The first of her children is committed to leave their nest. Sansa cried about that all night and into the next day, even if it was years away.

To atone to the Queen for Gregor Clegane's crimes against her family, she tasks Sandor with carrying out her orders for Ser Gregor's capture. Oddly, enough his worst fear becomes his best tool. Dany assigns him Viserion, since the dragon had no true blood rider. Viserion senses The Hound had been born of fire and yields to him. They bought Sandor's brother back under heavy chains and surrendered him to the Queen in less than a sennight. Sansa greets Sandor like he was the second coming of Azo Ahai. To his wife and children, he is.

Gregor demands a trial by combat. Having become fat and slow in the long peace after the demise of House Lannister, he demands to fight on dragon back. Dany's face tightens at the request, but she grants Gregor's demand. She cautions him that dragons are not slaves. Jon offers to fight on Rhaegal, as it was his half-bother and sister Gregor killed. Sandor insists on the fight being fair, and the fight being his. He offered himself as the Champion of the Crown, despite Sansa begging against it.

During the fight, Gregor's dragon refuses his order of 'dracarys'. Instead, Rhaegal bucks the Mountain off his back and the man plunges thirty feet to the packed sand of the dragon pit. Sandor lands his dragon and jumps down. He draws his sword and mercifully ends his brother's misery by removing his head from his shoulders. His head was sent to Dorne for Elia Martell's family. Bran never told anyone, until long after the fight, he had learned to fly.

Before they leave the capital for Riverrun, the maester determines Sansa is with child. He loves their children, but Sandor cannot stand the little bird's pains. Neither of them is young enough to do the endless sleepless nights and tend to their growing duties. They may need to use the wet nurse despite Sansa's usual rebuffs. His duties have expanded exponentially with his successes at Riverrun, and now with the of capturing his brother, and being able to control one of the Queen's dragons. Six moons later they have their third son. Willow was old enough that she helps greatly with the new babe, Rickard Stark Clegane. Sansa almost fells jealous of how he would seek out 'Willa' if he is upset, or if he gets a 'no' from his mother. Willow would try to negotiate on his behalf, further gaining his preference for her as an alley as time passes.

Sandor is now also responsible for Clegane Keep. One day he will give Riverrun and Clegane Keep to his sons. Until then, he will hire a castellan to bring Clegane Keep up to snuff, and erase all traces of his brother's presence from it. To generate income for the property Sandor sends some of Stranger's offspring there to be raised, trained and bred as war horses and some of their best trained wolfhounds. Riverrun and the Cleganes became famous for their oversized war horses and their hunting wolfdogs. The symbol of the three black dogs that died on the autumn field became famous, instead of infamous.

Once Lord Stannis Baratheon is in failing health, Bran and Shireen take over Dragonstone. Sandor arranges for Viserion to be housed there as he is too big for the over populated capital with his fire-breathing brothers, and the Clegane horses are too tempting to a always hungry dragon. Bran is able to control the living green fire with little effort, and he keeps a tight reign on his charge.

Prince Jon has been a long confirmed bachelor, since he never planned to marry after joining the Nights Watch. The Realm needs an heir and a line of succession. It is decided that they would once again form an alliance between House Targaryen and House Martell. Jon has meet with Arianne Martell and agrees to the match. She is beautiful and smart, and fierce. They have a daughter first and according to Rhoynish customs and Dornish laws, she is the heir to the Iron Throne, as the first born. They name her after her queen aunt. She is presented as Daenerys Targaryen, Second of her name. She has her parent's black hair, and her aunt's purple eyes.

This long-term peace and period of prosperity is called The Golden Era of Westeros and all was right with their world.


End file.
